


The Tangled Webs We Weave

by remarkable1



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Loki: Agent of Asgard, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Magic, Anger, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Breaking Up & Making Up, Brotherly Bonding, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fighting, Fluff and Angst, Hot Sex, Intense, Jealousy, Kinky, Lies, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Love, Making Love, Making Out, Making Up, Marriage, Massage, Masturbation, Mental Instability, Mutual Masturbation, Oops, Pregnancy, Rage, Reformed!Loki, Regret, Revenge, Sadness, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem Issues, Spying, Stalking, Toys, Violence, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-08-19 17:49:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 30,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20213818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remarkable1/pseuds/remarkable1
Summary: Why are so many ambassadors of Midgard sent packing from Asgard so quickly, and what does Loki have to do with it? Loki meets his match when Midgard switches tactics and sends in Hermione Granger. She plays an official role but unofficially sent to solve the mystery of the high turnover of ambassadors. Tricky Loki, Cunning Hermione, Poor Sod Thor gets sucked into the web, and the explosion of events when it all comes to a head.





	1. Chapter 1

Loki stared over his wine goblet at the curly-haired mortal witch sat across from him. She was the fifth diplomat Midgard had sent in the past six months. And if he kept up his track record, she would be packing by the end of a month also. It was so easy to disseminate, intimidate, confuse the minds of the poor, foolish mortals who thought to understand the ways of the Gods. Mortals who dared to try and teach Gods about Modern Medicine, Industrial Revolutions and Equal Opportunities between men and women - such imbeciles deserved their punishments.

Foolish, foolish mortals.

He’d seduced, fucked and buggered the first three women Earth had sent, then twisted their weak, sapped little minds so far around his little finger he had them thinking they’d begged him for it. Then he forced them to resign in shame when he threatened to make it public they were nothing more than Whores of Earth.

That’s what all of the women of Earth were. Including his brothers’ stupid bitch Jane.

Asgardian women were much more hardy, refined, cultured; and unfortunately, wise to the ways of the God of Mischief. Oh, he occasionally took a wench about for a tame tumble, but that was the one real downfall of Asgardian women as well; they were tight with their morals and fainted if you so much as breathed past the missionary position.

What was a devious, horny God to do?

Boring Asgard turned ripe with opportunity as Earth had begun sending these delicious, pathetic little tarts into the castle. It seems they must have figured out something was going on, as the last one was male. It was even easier to dispose of him than the first three. Human males were so hung up on their masculinity. When you taught a so-called straight man the pleasures of male/male sex, and twist his mind to question his very sexuality, it was so effortless – and getting rather dull – taking their minds round the bend like a spoon stirring cocoa.

So while this petite Earth slut would be a pleasant little distraction, a toy for his claws, it was only sure to last a little bit of time before he was bored stiff once more.

His family couldn’t prove he’d been the one responsible for sending the other diplomats packing. Just the same, all fingers pointed at him as he rolled his eyes and sipped from a diamond-studded chalice, smoothing hurt feelings from lips dripping with poisoned silver and honey.

===

He’d been stalking her. How convenient that her quarters *somehow* ended up right – next – to- his. It wasn’t *his* fault the guest suite had caught fire, and the others infested with bedbugs. Oh darn. It seemed all the diplomats were doomed to take the room next to him — such a shame.

Loki skirted the edge of the grand hall, fingering a small ring, twirling it round and round one pinky. The court had lasted longer than anticipated, and his temper and groin grew twitchy, restless. The longer it dragged, the more his ire and lust felt like a rattler getting poked at with a stick.

Finally, FINALLY, the curly-haired witch had stopped arguing with his Father. She had a way with words; he’d give her that. But he imagined, far more useful than flapping, that those plump, rosy lips would look divine sucking his cock like an icicle in winter.

Now she was shaking hands – shaking fucking hands – with the confused men and women that still lingered at the end of the court, hoping to catch the All-Father with last-minute business or sucking up on his way out. Oh no, not at all a proper lady. He wondered what else about her was improper.

Loki backed up down the hall about ten paces when he saw her determined, tired stride coming his way. He timed her exit to the hallway just so - five, four, three, two, and he started walking, looking down and pulling out a palm-full of coins, bumping into her, full force, flinging the coins rattling down the corridor and causing her to drop a thick sheaf of parchment, scattering beautifully. He couldn’t have timed it more perfectly.

“Oh! I’m so very sorry! How clumsy of me. I wasn’t watching where I was going,” she babbled, not looking at him yet as she crawled on hands and knees to gather up her papers.

A guard came to assist, and Loki abruptly slid his hand across his neck at the approaching man, making a cutting motion and ‘ssst’ sound. The guard nodded and quickly backed away.

“Did you say something?” she asked, and Loki's face quickly turned polite and neutral as he bent on one knee.

“Not at all. And it is I that must beg your sincere forgiveness, Ambassador Granger. I wasn’t watching where I was going either, and it’s no excuse having lived in this palace for as long as I have.”

He waved one hand, and all of her papers appeared, neatly stacked in a pile.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, then bowed her head to her chest and laughed. “I feel so stupid right now. My old professor would say to me, ‘Have you forgotten you are a witch?’. I’m so used to doing things the Muggle way it’s second nature to me now.”

"Muggle?" he questioned sincerely.

"Muggle is a term magical folk on Earth call non-magical folk. It's not derogatory, just differentiating."

"I see." 

Loki extended a hand and gracefully pulled her to a stand. She smiled beautifully at him, took out her twig and waved it about with a silly incantation. His coins flew through the air and gathered in a pocket on his vest.

“Very nice,” he demurred, bowing his head to her.

The woman still looked flustered, but a bit more at ease. “I don’t think we’ve met properly. I mean, I’ve seen you around, but not *met* you. Are you part of the court?” she asked sincerely.

Loki smirked just a bit, cocking his head to one side slightly as he gave her a gracious bow. “Prince Loki Odinson of Asgard, at your service, my Lady.”

She brought a hand to her heart and then up to her mouth. “Oh my god! Only my second day here and I’m already accosting royalty,” she gasped, but then dropped her hand and reached out to him. “Pleased to meet you. Ambassador Hermione Granger. You may call my Hermione if you like, or Ambassador.”

“Lady Granger it is,” he volleyed, and she sighed when he took her hand, kissing the back of it while looking up at her from under his thick lashes. "I've heard *so* much about you already."

He saw a little tremor go through her and a flash of something hit her eyes like a shot, and then it was gone.

“I meant to shake your hand – but – that -that was very nice. You’re very polite.”

“All proper Asgardian men are gentlemen if they hope to hold a place at court,” he smoothed, then held the crook of his arm out to her. “I know not where your chambers are, but if you please, I will escort the lady to her door.”

“Oh, um, sure. I guess.” She hesitated, then gingerly took his proffered arm.

He loved how uncomfortable the women of Midgard were, not necessarily wanting to initiate contact with him, but also not wanting to set a wrong impression by refusing hospitality. Royalty had its perks.

Small talk reigned as they strolled, and as he began leading her in the way of the usual guest chambers, she gently, but firmly, said, “Oh, no My Lord. My chambers are this way. I started to settle in the guest wing last night, but right before I had my things brought in the room caught fire. Then the maids told me there were some bugs in the other rooms. They gave me a spare one right down this hall.”

“What a coincidence,” he feigned surprise, arching his brows. “My chamber is also in this direction. If we are near to one another, let me offer to be of assistance at any time of the night or day, no matter the reason. Such a fair lady as thyself deserves only the best Asgard has to offer.”

Oh, he was one smooth bastard, but still, she surprised him.

Giving him a wry smirk, she countered, “And I suppose you’re the best Asgard has to offer?”

She caught on quickly.

“Yes, one of the best,” he admitted boldly. “I’m a proud man, my birthright to ascend to a throne one day, and I make no apologies for thinking highly of my finer qualities. I train, work, and practice quite hard within every aspect of my duties, both at work and pleasure.” He let a little purr and drop in register accentuate the last word, and again he felt that little shiver scurry through her. Oh, this was going to be so, so much fun!

“Well, um, here we are,” she said pleasantly, gently but firmly removing her arm from his own. She stood there awkwardly, looking up at him as if she didn’t know what to say after that exchange.

“Are you going to retire until the evening meal? If I may be so bold, I can send for a hot drink or refreshment to be brought to your chambers if you desire.” Again, that slight, barely perceptible drop in register that had the pupils of her eyes widen briefly when he accentuated the word desire, drawing it out ever-so-slightly.

She licked her lips. “I – I think I’m alright. I’m just a little tired. I’m just going to, um, go in here now and take a bath.”

“By all means, don’t let me stop you,” he said pleasantly, then leaned forward slowly, and her eyes did widen now in mild alarm as he reached towards her – then past her- never breaking eye contact, and opened the door for her just a crack.

“Good evening, my Lady. When you are feeling refreshed, knock on my door, and I shall escort you to dinner.”

Hermione backed into the doorway, stumbling a little and banging her elbow on the door jamb. “Ow! Sorry again. Yes, that sounds lovely. Well, um, good evening, my Lord.”

“Loki,” he purred, just as she began to pull the door closed, surprised when he jammed his toe in the doorway.

“Pardon me?” she said in a high-pitched voice, the pulse in her neck speeding up nicely.

“My name. Loki. I would feel honored if you were to call me by my given name.”

“Oh – yes – that sounds lovely, Prince –“

“Just, Loki,” he enunciated once more.

“Okay, Loki. I prefer my title, though, Ambassador or my Lady was quite nice too.”

He removed his foot, having pushed his luck far enough for one encounter. With a sharp, slight bow, he murmured, “My Lady,” and promptly disappeared into his bedchambers next door.

Once inside, he exhaled slowly, closing his eyes and leaning against the heavy oak door. The woman smelled amazing. And not because she wore perfumes or false scents, because she wore nothing at all, and what he was scenting was purely HER. It was so rare to find a female that basked in her own, natural allure. He believed the Ambassador had NO idea how lovely and intoxicating that was to a God-like him.

He looked down at his hungry prick and scolded it. “Now, now, don’t be greedy, friend. If we play our cards right, we might get a little taste of mortal fluff before the night is out.”

In the chamber next door, Hermione undressed, staring at herself in the large gilded mirror on the wall. What was wrong with her? She’d run into a prince of the realm, he was gracious and polite, and in-between her thighs were saturated just from the way he talked to her. Hermione wasn’t so sure walking to dinner with him was a good idea.

As she sank into the hot water, she moaned, then chastised herself. ‘Get over yourself, Hermione. Of course, he’s handsome and charming. Princes are raised to be that way. Now is not the time to get distracted by lust; you have work to do.’

And in his bathroom chamber, Loki whispered a long-lost language and waved a hand over his mirror. The image of himself blurred, and that of the lovely Lady next door came into view. He spied, entranced, as she stood right in front of her mirror and stripped down to nothing as if she’d done it to please him.

Loki closed his eyes and hissed in, willing himself not to give in so soon. But it was no use. Rubbing one out was a necessity if he was to keep his cool around her the remainder of the evening.

The dark Prince opened his trousers, letting them fall and groaning when she disappeared, probably having gone to the bath. It was for the best. He needed to stay focused. Going to his bed, he laid down, drawing his hardened prick up and down, twisting slightly on the upstroke. He impatiently pushed up his shirt, then uttered another word and his hand and cock were lubricated, Loki’s eyes closing, the searing image of her full breasts and flat belly filling his mind. And she was a woman in the truest sense of the word, unshaven, her chestnut bush curling beautifully at the apex of her sex. She was perfect, petite, mortal and he’d make her his slut before driving her out as he had all the others.

With the image of her lips sliding over his cock repeatedly flying through his mind, his hand sped up, and he cried out, his issue spurting over his belly and groin.

Oh, yes, fun indeed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor interferes with Loki's plans.

Chapter 2

Loki listened carefully at his door after the Lady had dressed in front of her mirror once more, and timed his appearance just after she opened and closed the door to her chambers. As he exited, he called out after her, “My Lady, leaving without me?”

She froze, caught in the act of trying to slip past him, but she smoothly recovered. “Not at all. I needed to stretch my legs a bit while I waited for you.”

‘Of course, you did, you minx,’ he thought, extending an arm.

She readily accepted his arm this time, but he felt her freeze momentarily when he placed the palm of his other hand over the top of her small one. When no further move was made, she relaxed, and they had an almost pleasant chat the entire way into the dining hall. He pulled out her chair, offered her a drink, then sat opposite, easily entertaining the guests with rousing tales of adventure and mayhem with his brother, Lady Sif and the Warriors Three.

Lady Granger appeared enchanted and hardly touched her food until there was a lull in the conversation, and Loki encouraged her to eat before the next course was served.

Thor exchanged amused looks with his mother. “Loki seems to be in fine spirits tonight. I wonder what’s cheered him so.”

Frigga threw her younger son a look out of the corner of her eye. “Oh, I’d say there might be a new lady he has his eyes set upon.”

Thor very obviously peered around the room, then looked back to his mother, shrugging. “I see no new faces.”

“Oh, Thor, I swear, your skills of observation will need to improve before you take the throne. I’m talking about the Ambassador.”

Thor paused, his mouth full of chicken and he chewed thoughtfully. “Aye, she’s a delight. Witty, intelligent, sharp tongue, pretty in a Midgardian way. I can see why she’d catch my brother’s eye.”

Frigga gave Thor a pointed look until he set his chicken drumstick down and folded his hands. “I can see you want to tell me something, Mother. Out with it.”

Frigga gave him a knowing smile. “Might there be some competition between brothers for the hand of a fair maiden?” she teased, taking a small sip of wine.

Thor looked from Hermione back to his mother. “Her?” He started laughing, catching the attention of others and drawing them away from Loki’s next tale, which caused him to falter and stop mid-speech.

“Brother. Pray tell, what is so amusing?” Loki asked, seemingly politely but with an undertone of rudeness if you knew to listen for and recognize it.

“I am sorry to have interrupted your tale. Mother was telling me something very amusing.”

Loki glanced sharply at his mother, as did all others in their group at the table. “Mother? Please enlighten us. Sharing IS caring, after all.” He tilted his head playfully to soften the request.

She huffed out a laugh when he tipped his goblet to her, and everyone broke out in laughter once more. “Some tales are not suitable for the ears of all,” the Queen said cryptically, causing Loki to raise his brows at her.

His mother was rarely playful in the formal dining hall, and he was glad to see his oaf of a brother entertaining her for once instead of making her worry, ignoring the fact that it was usually his antics which caused the most strife in the household.

“Well done, Mother,” Frigga's younger son replied, standing, then bowing slightly. “A toast!” he shouted, “to the most beautiful and wise queen of Asgard!”

“Here, here!”

“Aye, I’ll drink to that!”

“Bless ye, Mother!”

“My Queen, long life, and happiness!”

Servants brought out fresh casks of wine as Frigga blushed. She wished Loki was that charming more often. He was such a rogue, calling her out at the table. And she shook a teasing finger at Thor as well, who beamed at his brother. Loki shot him a genuinely sincere, rare smile and nodded back.

If only her family got along this way more often, life would be more pleasant. But still, she couldn’t complain. At least she had both of her boys at home, and the kingdom was relatively free from troubles. It was asking for misfortune to wish for more – but secretly – she still did.

\--

Loki feigned needing to run a short errand in the middle of the meal, waving away offers of help from servants and guests. A short time later, he re-appeared, re-seating himself as if nothing was amiss and resuming the conversation. He shot a smug look at Lady Granger when she wasn't watching, not catching the narrowed eyes of his brother following Loki's gaze.

At long last the meal drew to a close, the wine caskets had emptied, and with full bellies and addled minds, the great dining hall slowly emptied of citizens until only the Lady Hermione, Loki, Thor, and a few others revelers were left in a tight knot, laughing and talking.

A considerable yawn cracked Hermione's jaw open wide, and she raised an arm over it in an attempt at modesty. "Oh, my. I'm so sorry. The wine must have gone to my head. It's time for me to take my leave and retire. Thank you for the lovely meal and company. Goodnight everyone."

The small crowd wished her well and goodnight. Thor fought back a powerful urge to push his brother back into his chair as Loki rose a just a bit too quickly, offering to escort Hermione back to her chambers. The blond Asgardian Prince didn't like the eager glint in Loki's eye – one he'd seen one too many times right before his brother had bedded a maiden, one whose eyes were swollen from tears the next morning and shooting his brother hateful looks as the cad ignored her afterward.

It took all of ten seconds to make up his mind, and Thor thrust himself in front of the pair, bowing and then taking Lady Granger's other arm. "My brother is too kind. I feel as if I haven't been doing my duty as a royal host. Allow my brother and me escort you. There is strength in numbers."

Hermione giggled a bit drunkenly, trying not to smile, but snorting a little. "Oh, um, you don't have to. But if you want, I'm not going to complain," she smiled up at him.

Thor observed the hard set of Loki's jaw and a slight tick in his cheek, which indicated his extreme irritation, probably at being cockblocked.

Thor dominated the conversation with light banter as they quickly made it back to her chambers. Thor said his goodnight, then stood to one side politely, holding her door open.

Loki pointedly looked at his brother and tossed his head to one side, trying to get Thor to leave, but the interloper just smiled a shit-eating grin at him, enjoying the hell out of this. It wasn't often he got to thwart Loki. And from this night out Thor would be watching out for the Ambassador. The slippery little shit trickster wasn't going to drive this fine Lady away if indeed, he was the culprit for the others leaving.

"My brother was just on his way. I want a private word with the Lady, if you don't mind, *Brother*," Loki emphasized meaningfully.

Thor looked to Hermione, who waved him off. "I'll be fine. I've got the other Prince looking after me. 'Night then."

"Goodnight fair Lady," Thor intoned, kissing her hand then bowing, backing away before turning to stride off. Not fooled when his brother's elephantine footsteps ceased a mere dozen paces from around the corner Loki smirked, for his hearing was excellent. Fuck. Thor wasn't going to leave until the Ambassador was in her chambers.

Mentally cursing older, meddling brothers, he changed his plan of attack and instead asked Hermione if she enjoyed chess, and would she care for a game at her earliest convenience. She indicated a preference for puzzles, and Loki deferred to her wish and promised her a trip to the library. Asgard was home to some fascinating, ancient puzzles the citizens enjoyed solving from time to time. It kept the mind sharp.

Kissing her hand, he watched her slip into her chambers longingly, then glared in the direction of his hidden brother. He stepped into his rooms and closed his door most of the way, listening at the crack, teeth-gnashing when Thor's signature booming footsteps resumed.

Bastard. If Thor thought he was going to stop Loki from his mission, his dear brother was sorely mistaken.

Loki slammed the door the rest of the way and quickly headed to the mirror in the bathroom. But he was not in luck. The Lady must have already used the facilities. He made his way to his bedroom and pulled out a small mirror, intoning the same words he'd used on the large mirror.

An image of the Ambassador's bedroom came up. He'd only had a few moments to slip in and place the small mirror during dinner, and he had glamoured it so it wouldn't draw suspicion, not having been there previously.

He took out his cock and settled in for a peep show but was disappointed when the Lady brushed out her hair, took off her outer dress, but kept her shift in place and laid down, falling asleep on top of the covers.

With an irritable snarl, Loki tucked himself away and went to bed, moody and brooding for several hours before finally settling into a restless sleep.

\--

Loki woke the following morning in a terrible mood, snapping at the servants, giving sharp, one-word answers to his mother and father’s greetings, and shouting at a poor serving girl to replace his food three times before he was satisfied with it. He all but ignored the Ambassador when she arrived, looking very lovely, on the arm of one of the Warriors Three. Disgusted, Loki rolled his eyes, threw his cloth napkin on his plate, and pushed away irritably from the table, making a horrid squealing noise as he did so. This action caught the attention of the entirety of the room. The dark Prince made substantial production flouncing out of the door in a royal huff.

Conversation resumed at a lower hum than before, no one surprised or disturbed by one of the younger Prince’s famous tantrums. Whatever it was, he’d be over it sooner or later.

\--

That evening sported Hermione and a laughing Thor in the library. She was asking him questions he was unable to answer when Loki walked in, stopping short when he saw them together. He scowled and turned to walk out but was detained.

“Brother! Do come in! The Ambassador wanted to see our good library, and well, you know it’s contents are not one of my intellectual pursuits.”

“You HAVE no intellectual pursuits,” Loki muttered under his breath as he smiled at the Lady.

“What was that, Brother?” Thor asked, frowning.

“Oh, eh, I was simply stating that the library is a delightful pursuit.”

“Of course, you were. Well, my Lady, Loki is the man for the job when it comes to literary affection. I bid you well, and good evening.” Thor gave his brother a hard, warning look as he took his leave, but as usual, Loki shot him a rude gesture from behind his back, smiling in the front to the Lady. Thor shook his head in resignation, closing the large double doors behind him.

“There are some pretty impressive libraries on Earth, but I’ve NEVER seen anything of this scope or variety in my travels. It’s magnificent!”

“Mmm, yes, it is,” Loki purred, quickly flitting his gaze from her tits to her face.

“Well?” she gestured, “are you going to show me around?”

“Oh, Yes! Right! Of course!” Loki kicked himself mentally. He needed to stay sharp if he was to impress the girl.

The evening progressed rapidly, and they effortlessly fell into a discussion of Asgardian politics, literature, music, and art, to Earth’s evolution of philosophy, poetry and climate change.

Hermione felt delighted at having met her mental equal. Of course, it would have to be a God that met her match, but hey, she wasn’t complaining.

Loki seemed pleased as well, and he was. He’d managed to sneak a few peeks down her shirt, teasing her with whispers in her ear, and smoothly, 'accidentally' running one hand down her thigh. All in all, he’d wedged himself into her sphere of influence on a highly successful level and was assured they’d be spending a lot more time together.

Unfortunately, he had duties to attend to and regretfully missed her disrobing but was content to watch the soft rise and fall of her abdomen as she slept.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yar! There be lemons, ahoy!

The days seemed to pass quickly after that, and before they knew it almost two weeks had flown. Hermione was now Loki’s nightly companion in the library, annoyingly joined by Sif, Frigga and sometimes his oaf of a brother, but there was enough quiet time with her, that he genuinely grew fond of her as a person, and not just a lump of flesh. Loki had decided to cool it after the fourth night when he’d leaned in to kiss her, and she’d avoided him like the plague the following day. He’d apologized for being too forward and promised to behave from then on. She forgave him, and now, here they sat, with him growing more and more impatient to taste her, have her sweet, delicious body riding him, and soon.

Almost every night he masturbated himself stupid as she undressed, pulling on the sexiest undergarments he’d ever seen, and choosing to dress in the provided Asgardian finery. When she debated politics with his father, his heart beat just a bit faster. As she dined, his eyes gazed longingly at her lips closing around her chosen morsel. And when they walked together, his loins ached, feeling her hips shifting at his side as she idly chatted his ear off about nothing.

This seduction was going nowhere and fast. Loki needed a way to get into her bed.

==

Loki started leaving a single-stemmed rose by her morning plate, then a bar of small chocolate on her pillow, placed by a servant with an anonymous note of admiration. Then he wrote her some original poetry and fretted for hours, anxious to know what she thought of it. From his mirror, Loki watched as Hermione read it and sighed, clasping the parchment to her bosom, pumping his fist and quietly shouting, “Yes!” into the room.

The poetry escalated into trinkets, then old, precious books. And this whole time Hermione STILL hadn’t guessed who her mystery suitor was. She gushed to Sif and the Warriors Three, they amused, and happy someone in the palace was showing her grace and dignity.

It all came to a head when Loki asked for her hand to go riding, and with a happy laugh, she grabbed him, and they practically ran together into the main hall. Loki threw open the doors and drew her down to the stables, making her wear a cloth over her eyes, telling her he had a surprise waiting for her. By now, Hermione was used to his teasing and kept laughing, asking him every few moments if she could take off the blindfold.

Loki led her in front of a stall and finally slid around to the back of her, pressing close, then counted to three and took off her blindfold with a flourish.

In the stall before Hermione was a coal-black, high-born Asgardian racing mare, sleek, powerful and young. She pranced daintily before her audience, snorting as she reached for hay, keeping one eye on the both of them.

Hermione was stunned, and she said, “Oh, Loki, she’s beautiful! Am I going to get to ride her?”

“Yes,” he breathed gently into her ear, tickling the hairs there on his exhale, “whenever and however often you wish, for as long as you stay on Asgard, and every visit after that.”

“Really? Oh, that’s lovely! But won’t her owner miss her if I take her out whenever I wish?”

Loki’s smile grew devious, and he turned her gently, locking gazes. “She’s yours, Hermione. I’m gifting her to you.”

Hermione brought one hand to her mouth, looking over her shoulder at the gorgeous mare before turning back to Loki in shock. “What? Oh, no, I – I simply couldn’t! Loki, it’s too much!”

“There is no gift I wouldn’t give you, My Lady,” Loki said gently, then raised her hand and kissed the back of it, lingering over her skin with his lips, kissing a soft trail up to her wrist before lowering it down.

The realization hit the Ambassador, and she almost stumbled back, but he held her fast and nodded.

“Yes. I’m the mysterious Asgardian courting your affections. I thought you would have figured it out before now.”

“Oh God!” she exclaimed, still at a loss for words, then, leaning in, she kissed him, and he crowed in victory on the inside, only to have it settle in confusion when she pulled back just as he went to deepen their embrace. She gently pushed on his shoulders, her meaning clear. “Loki, I’m flattered. I am. But we really can’t be more than friends. I -I still have a life on Earth, and well,” she gestured around her, “You’re a prince with the eye of every belle in the kingdom. I couldn’t possibly keep your interest for long.”

“Oh, no! That’s where you’re wrong!” he countered a bit desperately. “No fair Lady has captured my imagination, matched my wit and intellect, and almost surpassed my magic skill, in the centuries I’ve been alive. And with you, these past weeks – I feel like I’m truly living for the first time. I promise you; I won’t tire of you, my Lady. I give you my word.”

Hermione’s cheeks glowed with vigor, her eyes bright and happy. She started to shake her head, and Loki pleaded with her. And he never begged. “Ambassador – Hermione – please. Give me a chance – just one chance – to show you how dear you’ve grown to be in my heart. I – I can be patient, and we don’t need to rush things. I’m willing to wait to win your affections. Just give me a chance, and I promise you, you won’t regret it. Never.”

Hermione blew out a breath and sighed, as if put out, then embraced him tightly. “You are the sweetest man I have ever met. Yes, of course, we can give it a try, but I’m not making any promises, and this does NOT mean we are exclusive.”

“Of course not! I mean, I intend to be, but you are free to dally with whom you see fit.”

She rolled her eyes, and he gestured for a groom to saddle her mare. “I don’t ‘dally’ with anyone, Loki, you know that.”

“Would you dally with me, fair Lady, if I were to capture your affections?” he purred darkly, close enough only for her to hear.

His sinful voice and wicked mouth twisted in amusement and she stuttered for a deep breath. “We’ll have to see,” she stated pointedly, turning her back on him then and mounting the mare. “Let’s ride!”

Smirking, he had the groom bring his prepared steed, and they took off on a pleasant exploration of the Asgardian countryside.

\--

Their time together increased, and at times, Hermione was late for court, bustling in at the very last moment, straightening her dress and patting her hair. She still hadn’t let Loki touch her intimately yet, but he was content that he was well on his way there and amused himself with jacking off to her beautiful body nightly.

One morning he greeted his Lady just outside her chambers, and something significant shifted within her as Loki tucked an Asgardian Lily behind her ear. Her heart started beating faster, and her breath came in short pants. She walked him backwards into an alcove out of sight of the guards and cast a Notice-Me-Not and Silencing charms.

“Hermione? Are you well, beloved?” he inquired, sincerely concerned for her welfare.

She flashed him a brilliant, then coy, smile. “Yes. I’ve never been better than I am right now.”

And she surged into his arms, taking him by surprise, pulling his head down to kiss deeply and thoroughly.

As the shock wore off he returned her embrace; at long last, she had initiated something more between them, and he was fierce and brutal and savage, but gentle and loving and kind, kissing her as she’d never experienced. His hands played along her back, noticeably trembling, almost at the breaking point from waiting so long to touch her properly.

When she shyly lifted his hand to her breast and pressed her chest into his grasp he almost lost himself, redoubling his efforts to worship her even more ardently, biting and suckling down the graceful column of her neck, kneading her breast through her clothing, pinching the nipple lightly, mouthing as much of it as he could, stimulating her with his teeth while wetting the front of her fabric-covered breast with his saliva.

Hermione pulled his head back up to hers and reclaimed his mouth, almost wrestling with him for dominance, which was ridiculous, because Loki far outweighed her in stature and bulk, even with his form much more slight and lanky than Thor's brawny build.

Loki respectfully held his hips away from her, not wanting to intimidate her with his size, even as his cock acted like a divining rod doing its best to break from its cloth prison and spring out towards her taunting heat.

Hermione’s hands roamed up into his dark, slicked-back hair, mussing it severely, but he didn’t care, lost in her soft cries and searing mouth, groping tenderly over her other breast, kneading them both, then reaching around, grabbing her bottom with both hands and lifting her.

Loki pressed her against the palace wall, the smooth, cold marble bitingly cold while the front of him was like an oven heating a loaf of bread.

He pulled back and gave her a moment to breathe, their foreheads pressed together, panting in tandem. “My Lady, I cannot pretend I am not extremely attracted to you, so forgive my body’s betrayal – but I would beg the honor of allowing me to pleasure you with my mouth.”

Hermione felt like she was going to die the moment he said it, and she nodded quickly, biting her lip in hot anticipation. He politely lowered her to the ground and as she stood,   
Loki knelt at her feet. He encouraged her to lift her skirts and groaned out loud when her bare cunt was suddenly in his face, her clean, full bush begging to be pet. She wasn’t wearing knickers. The God had to count again, almost to thirty this time, to quell the rage of lust burning through his veins.

Just when she started to feel self-conscious, Loki darted in, smoothing his hands up and down her bare thighs, worshipping her belly, outer thighs and the top of her mound with his sinful tongue. She kept trying to guide his head to where she wanted it, but he evaded her with a grin, laughing and teasing until Hermione cried out that if he didn’t eat her pussy, she was going to hex him.

Thrilled with her aggressiveness he gave in, licking, sucking, making love to her slit with his mouth, a very skilled lover from centuries of pleasuring women – and men – but she didn’t need to know that bit quite yet.

She pressed her back into the wall, bracing herself there and spread her legs wider, allowing him to tip his head back and slip his tongue into her waiting passage, treating him to dribbles of ambrosia. He swallowed down every little bit she offered, tweaking her clitoris and humming while he sucked. He thought it would take longer, but she must not have experienced pleasure of this nature for some time. Within minutes Hermione was grinding down into his face, Loki using his nose, chin, lips, teeth, and tongue in tandem with his skillful fingers to the best of his ability, speeding up and allowing her to practically suffocate him until she belted out a perfectly beautiful wail, and he sealed his lips around her cunt, drinking her down and then licking her dry, collecting the last of her cream on his tongue and sighing with debauched delight. He’d never tasted a juicier cunt.

He discretely cleaned his face and stood, and she immediately kissed him again, now moving to drop to her knees, but a brilliant idea leaped into his lust-addled mind, and he ran with it. Loki pulled her up and shook his head.

“Don’t you want me to reciprocate?” she asked, feeling a little vulnerable that he didn’t seem to want her to pleasure him.

“Of course I do – but that isn’t the point. I pleasured you with my mouth because I wanted to. I’m in love with you. And I don’t want you to think you have to give something back each time we come together. Please, grant me this one thing, I beg of you. I once said I would prove to you my affections. Let this be one of them. Not all men are pigs, Hermione.   
A Prince keeps his word – and is a gentleman in every way. Besides, you don’t want to be late for court again.”

“Oh, fuck! Thank you, Loki!” She waved her wand, righting their mussed clothing and hair but before she canceled the charms, she lowered her wand and turned back to him.

He cocked his head inquisitively. “Was there something more, my love?”

“Yes. This.”

She pulled him down for another luscious kiss, then whispered in his ear, “I 've fallen in love with you too Loki, Prince of Asgard,” then danced away from him and down the hall to the dismay of the guards who hadn’t seen nor heard of them until that very moment.

“You shall pay for that!” he teased, and his love just waved at him, laughing as she rounded the corner to the throne room.

With a little hop and click of his heels, a pleased God of Mischief went the opposite way, in the best mood he’d been in for ages. The guards shared a look and a nod, knowing there would be some hot gossip around the fire tonight with the other servants.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Mother, I am in love with the mortal," Loki declared, bursting into her sitting room and startling her.

"Good gracious, Loki, you scared me! Come in here, and please close the door. Priscilla, you are excused," she told her lady-in-waiting who curtsied and removed herself from the room.

"Now come sit with your dear old mother, and tell me again."

Loki bowed low before her, then perched on a stool opposite her. She took both of his hands and smiled kindly.

"Which mortal do you fancy yourself in love with, my son?" she asked kindly, stroking the backs of his hands with her aged, graceful fingers.

"The Midgard Ambassador, Lady Hermione Granger," he stated formally.

"Do you wish to ask her to be your intended?" Frigga asked, relieved when he jumped a little and looked away guiltily.

"Not yet, Mother. She's only just proclaimed her affection for me, and – and I think it's too soon to speak of weddings."

Frigga nodded. "That is wise, my son. You've learned from your past heartbreak. Given the longevity of our lifespans, it's always wise to wait, to see if these things blossom, flourish and continue to survive, or if they wither and die as winter falls."

A chill swept through Loki's heart and was gone as quickly as it had come. He shivered minutely, waiting for his mother to say her piece.

She surprised him by asking directly, "Have you brought her to your bed?"

Loki withdrew and stood quickly, shaking his head in negation. "Mother! Why would you ask such a thing? But if you must know, the answer is no. I haven't bedded her."  
He looked annoyed, crossing his arms and staring down at his mother.

She reached and put a firm hand over his crossed forearm. "Loki. This matter is important. Please sit down."

Slowly, he sat as requested, gradually relaxing and slowing his breathing. "Why must you know? You've never, in all of the years I've been with a woman or ten, inquired of my love life."

"Loki," she admonished gently. "You've never been in love with a mortal."

"What difference does it make? Love is love, is it not?" he asked gruffly, still put out he was talking about sexual matters with his Mother. It grossed him out a little bit.

"It is – but as is the case with mortals – their lives are the blink of an eye compared to ours. Your heart will break before it's even begun to understand true passion betwixt you."

"If you're trying to talk me out of being with her, Mother," he warned, but she put a finger to his lips.

"I'm not. And I'm sorry, I got sidetracked. My point of this conversation is to be very careful. If you do not intend to wed the girl, make very certain she is taking precautions to prevent conception."

"Mother! First, you ask me if I've bedded her, and now you wish to dissuade me from fertilizing her womb?"

Frigga opened her mouth in shock. "Loki! Don't be vulgar!"

"You brought it up! I have no plans for impregnating her. There, are you happy now?"

Loki looked very unhappy, and it tore at Frigga's heart. His head drooped, and she lifted her son's chin with an index finger.

"Don't fret, Loki. If she returns your love, I'm sure everything will work out. I am giving you a gentle reminder that along with a much shorter lifespan, mortals are very fertile, and  
if this were not to last, you could be responsible for offspring far after she is dust."'

Loki closed his eyes in pain. "Can't you just let me be happy? Why must you dredge up unpleasant things in this manner?"

"It's for your own good, Loki. I know you. You tire of women quickly, some the day after you've professed your love. There have been several scares with those whom you would loathe sharing, much less raising, a child. No child deserves to feel unwanted, abandoned. Thank the Norns none of them bore fruit."

Miserably, Loki had to agree with her, achingly dredging up his own experiences of rejection, shame, and manipulation by the All-Father. The younger son of the Queen had been a bit reckless, and he didn't plan on fathering any children, anytime soon. "I shall endeavor to be careful, Mother." He paused, and she waited for him to continue. "Do you approve, Mother? I mean, if this lasts?"

At this, Frigga was able to share a conspiratorial smile and earned a saucy grin and wink back from her youngest. "Of course. I want grandchildren one of these centuries."

He swatted her playfully on the arm, and she swatted his bum. "Out with you. Send my lady-in-waiting back in. Tell her to fetch my silver combs."

"Yes, Mother," he answered dutifully, bowing to her on the way out.

And with that same happy little skip and click of his heels, he whistled down the hall, stunning servants and staff alike that had no idea what had brightened the spirits of their kingdom's youngest Prince.

==

It took exactly two days for the entire kingdom to know about the new couple's budding relationship. Tongues wagged like wildfire. There were rumors the Prince had wed secretly, and there was a babe on the way. Many anxiously stole glances at the Ambassador's slim waist, frowning when it never expanded.

Others were insistent that she had him under a spell, and others argued it was impossible because he was also a magic-user.

The popular theory by far was the Lady had won Loki AND Thor's hearts, and they were discreetly battling over who would win her hand. Every glance of one brother to the other was a threat of confrontation, and as the whispers grew louder, they finally reached the ear of the court. Odin, of course, was NOT happy.

With an iron fist, he declared his son's and the Ambassador's relationship sanctioned by the Crown, with the full approval of the Queen and crown prince. To continue spreading lies would result in loss of wages, and possible banishment to the outer realms if the behavior continued.

After that, things died down a bit; people once more appeared to grow uninterested and went about their daily lives, and shut their mouths when in public.

\--

A week into their formal courtship, Hermione began noticing strange coincidences. At first, it was charming, and as she knew Loki to be very intuitive, chalked it up to his stellar interpersonal skills. He attached a matching corsage to her breast each morning or slipped a complimentary ring of exotic, miniature flowers in a daisy chain 'round her wrist.

When she mentioned how remarkable it was he'd managed to match her outfit five days running, Loki began only charming the color of his morning gifts after he'd seen her ensemble for the day.

She would have let it pass if not for other small, unexplained occurrences. Loki would make double entendres which were endearing and sweet, but some bordered on creepy. He made a veiled reference to a specific type of lingerie he'd like to see her wear, which also happened to be one of the few very nice sets she not only owned but had brought with on her assignment.

Hermione had been reading Shakespeare, finishing his works, but not having invited Loki into her inner sanctum, she was surprised when he gifted her with near-mint condition replicas with gilded pages on fine, rare Asgardian paper, signed by Shakespeare himself.

When asked how he knew of her love of the author, he merely shrugged and with a twinkle told her she just seemed like someone who would appreciate his work.

Then there was the time she had a nightmare, and when she awoke, it was to the sound of him pounding on her chamber, asking if she was alright. When she opened the door a crack and told him she was doing fine, and to go back to bed, he asked her who Ron was, and what he meant to her. Hermione was so tired she brushed it off, tiredly commenting he was an old boyfriend, they were nothing more than friends, and he'd moved on and remarried. Satisfied she’d sated his curiosity, Hermione went back to bed. The next day she realized she had never mentioned Ron to Loki even once, and wondered if she’d shouted the name in her sleep. Hermione chose to ignore the niggle in the back of her brain that reminded she was using a bookmark repurposed from one of Ron's old love letters, the scrap folded so a sweet comment appeared at an angle with a sketch of him on a broom. It had been taken out of her finished book and set in plain sight on top of her bureau.

The icing on the cake happened when brand new bath products appeared in her bath chamber in every array imaginable, all her favorites, all brand name, and a few intimate items she'd written of nowhere but in her private diary, which was under her pillow. This little detail set her teeth on edge, and while she appreciated Loki's sweetness, it was bordering on weird, and Hermione didn't like feeling like she was the subject of dissembling.

Loki started to worry when she was a little cold towards him for a few days after the bath chamber incident and then relaxed when she told him she'd had migraines, but they'd gone away.

In truth, what she'd discovered was so very simple, it was under her nose the entire time, and she hadn't even known. Undressing one evening, she had a hard time taking the enchanted beads from her hair after a formal function, and reluctantly cast "Finite" on the area with a sloppy wave of her wand. Asgard's palace was quite generous with their time, servants, and amenities. The witch really had had little need to use her wand much.

Lo and behold, who should she see appear in her mirror but her beau, moving about his bedchamber, settling himself into a chair and lowering his trousers. Hermione's eyes opened wide when Loki pulled out his impressive member, and he appeared startled as if realizing she was truly seeing him, but she quickly recovered and leaned into the mirror as if examining an irritant in her eye.

His look of alarm passed and he began stroking himself, closing his eyes and languidly sprawling his legs far out in front of him, wide apart, as if watching a peep show.

It took her a couple of days to figure out what she was going to do about this development. Furious, Hermione wanted to confront her love interest and was equal parts sullen, stricken, betrayed, and uncertain. Remembering her little trick with Marietta Edgecomb, she felt a slight turning of the tables was in order. She would find out for sure if Loki loved her, or was cruelly playing her heart.

What Hermione didn't realize was that Loki had never worked so hard to show affection to a woman in his entire life. His most protracted affair was probably a month, and only because she gave excellent head and her friends were willing to give him a go. The rest of his little love-escapades were week-long or fewer affairs, and he quickly tired of them.  
Everyone in the palace knew that his affection was genuine – except for Hermione. She wondered if she'd blindly leaped into this and was going to regret involving herself with not only a God but the God of Mischief and Lies.

It wouldn't be the first time she'd fallen for a so-called reformed bad boy, only to suffer heartbreak.

Most of the kingdom was enchanted by what seemed to be a fairytale romance; the mortal and the God, after having difficult lives, finding love on Asgard in the royal palace, and secret talks of royal weddings and babies started rumbling through their midst. And although the general populace kept it very quiet, the news had gotten back to Thor, and very concerned, he approached his brother.

Loki laughed him off and said let the people talk; he was earnest about Lady Granger. But Thor wasn't always so thick and noticed the way Hermione had started turning her body away from his brother while dining, removing her hand from beneath his under unnecessary pretense, and avoiding or canceling their meeting times, feigning headache, special outings, or blaming her absences on simple-minded forgetfulness.

Loki seemed to become upset and withdrawn, not understanding the change in her demeanor, afraid that in confronting her, she'd reject him and he'd lose her love forever.  
Forever was a very long time.

==

Thor confided his concerns to Sif, and they both became more worried by the day. Queen Frigga dashed a tear from her eye in public one day in full view of the court, when the two supposed lovers were only formally, coldly polite to one another during an audience. The meddling warrior duo resolved to find out what, exactly, was going on with the royal couple of the year.

\--

Hermione eyed the pair approaching her, hands fluttering nervously before she put them behind her back. She had a feeling the change in her and Loki's relationship had not gone unnoticed, and her fears were confirmed when Thor and Sif confronted her, not bothering to even lull her with niceties or small talk. 

Hermione was compelled to inform them of Loki’s voyeurism of her person and without her prior knowledge. It took a bit of convincing Sif, via holding her back and wrestling her arms around her back by Thor, before the lady warrior calmed down enough not to march into Loki's chambers and strangle the shit out of him. Thor felt tempted to follow suit but also curious to hear what Hermione had to say.

Hermione explained what she had in mind, and they argued back and forth, finally toning it down, but the God of Thunder still looked dubious.

Sif clapped excitedly at the plan of action. Thor warned Hermione there would be repercussions, but she assured him it wouldn't come to blows. And that the outcome would determine whether or not Loki was genuinely remorseful. Sif vowed not to reveal the plan to anyone unless it became absolutely necessary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with showing vs. telling at the end of this chapter. Many stories are only meant to be a certain length, so it can be difficult to decide which scenes to "show" and which to condense with telling. I wanted to keep the storyline moving and apologize if you would have liked the end scenes of this chapter expanded.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione puts her plan into action. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.....

A few days hence, Hermione found herself blatantly glaring at Loki across the dinner table, motioning for him to sit back down when he rose at the same time as she, to leave the dinner table. He slowly regained his seat and picked up his fork, jaw tightening in anger when she left the Hall, his brother darting eyes around the room, skipping over Loki, before rising and following Loki’s beloved hastily in the direction of her chambers.

Loki slammed down his cutlery and ignored the chastised cry of his mother and stern shout from his father, stalking after the pair.

Thor hurried his bulk after the girl, rushing through the entrance to her rooms, and pushed the heavy door shut behind him. Wiping his sweaty brow, not sure he wanted to go through with this farce, he felt conflicted. Turning the tables on his brother was one thing. This plan was – taking it to a level he didn't know if Loki would forgive him for. And he didn't quite remember how Hermione had roped him into her scheming. Before he knew it, she'd pulled him into the depth of her chambers, past the sitting room, into the boudoir. His sweating increased, and he paced, his eyes glancing from mirror to mirror.

Hermione rolled her eyes and forced him to sit down on the edge of her bed. Then she threw a bedsheet over the third mirror Loki had "gifted" her amid their courtship. At first, she was thrilled by its finery and detail but had grown disgusted and resentful that it was placed right at the foot of her bed where he had rubbed himself raw when she'd masturbated under her covers.

She had also found his small, 'hidden,' mirror, and moved another to her sitting room, where the goings-on was too tame for Loki to bother spying on her with that mirror most days.

That left the one in her bathroom wide open, and the small one she left in place but adjusted slightly so that it was off-kilter, only capturing a small space by the bedroom chamber doorway.

She jumped when the neighboring oak wood slammed with such force it jarred the trinkets on the shelves of her dresser.

"Loki is in a temper," she observed, brushing out her hair.

"He knows, my Lady. As soon as I rose from the meal, I thought he was going to murder me from across the room. I had to move quickly to avoid being confronted with a challenge prematurely."

"Good. Then the worm can get a taste of his own medicine. I’m sick and tired of him watching me. supposedly without my knowledge."

"Hermione –" Thor placed a hand on her arm to still her brushing motion, "This is not a game. Loki has given no indication he's strayed to another’s bed.”

“I’m aware of that! This isn’t about distrusting him physically, at least, not in the sense you implied.”

Thor couldn’t help but plead his case further. “What you're about to do may permanently destroy the fragile trust my brother's built with you."

She glared up at the future, hopefully, brother-in-law she'd come to care for deeply. "You speak of trust when Loki's the one that's been spying on me from the beginning? I thought he was so sweet- chivalrous – any woman's dream come true – but he's been sneaking around, and violating my privacy to satisfy his sexual needs. It's no wonder he hasn't been more forward with me. He's getting what he needs every night while I wait for him to make love to me!"

Thor ran his fingers through his short hair, blowing out slowly. "When you put it that way, it does sound pretty bad."

"That's putting it mildly," she responded sarcastically. "Now, are you going to help me or not? If you're getting cold feet, I'll ask Volstagg for assistance."

"No!" Thor jumped, placing a hand out to quell her threat. "I mean, please, I'll help you. But be aware, you are in genuine danger of losing my brother's heart. And I could be in mortal danger if he chooses to challenge me."

"That's why I'm not going as far with this charade as I'd originally planned. It gives me an 'out.' Loki can't accuse me of cheating on him when I’ve done nothing of the sort."

"In Asgardian high society, this type of sneaking, licentious behavior crosses the line of established propriety, my Lady."

"Fuck Asgardian propriety!” she snarled, removing her dress down to her shift in the bathroom, the door halfway closed. Thor averted his eyes, holding one hand to the side, so he   
didn't accidentally see parts of her he had no right to see.

"It's pretty fucked up that Loki thinks it's okay to do this to me. You talk about him not trusting in me? I don't know if I can't trust him again!" She angrily tore the combs from her hair, wincing as some hair went with them.

Thor continued talking to her, hoping to talk some sense into the situation before it deteriorated rapidly.

"My Lady – Hermione – love, my brother has had good reason to be deceptive and secretive. Loki feels – very deeply – like a bottomless well in which a person will never hear the anticipated clink of a dropped coin. Loki has professed his love for you. Yes, he's professed it before to others, but he's never stayed with one woman for as long as he has with you, and I would hate to see your love discarded so callously."

Hermione now held a myriad of pins in her hair, twisting long ropes of it into a complicated pattern atop her head. Her eyes grew sad as she watched Loki sit by his fire, not even looking in her direction, drinking something strong straight from the bottle.

When she'd finished with her hair, she stripped her shift to her waist, not even sure this was going to be worth the effort if Loki was going to ignore the mirrors all evening. It figured; the one time she wanted him to watch, and he wasn't.

As she started turning to go back into the bedroom, she saw him rise from his seat by the fire and wander over to his bed, running his fingers along the edge of the coverlet. His eyes drifted to the mirror, and she reached for her toothpaste and toothbrush, eager to see what his reaction would be. Loki's eyes softened, and he sat in front of the mirror. But he didn't lower his trousers, but did set the bottle next to him on the floor. Then he did one of the most adorable things she'd ever seen. He put his elbows on his knees and sat his chin in his palms, looking like a lost and forlorn little boy.

Her heart almost skipped a beat. Was Thor correct? Was she going too far? An intense flash of pain hit her at the thought of losing him. Hermione grabbed her head, making an anguished sound, shaking her skull back and forth, scrubbing at her eyes, so she didn't start crying. Thor called to her from the bedroom. "My Lady, is everything alright? Shall I fetch a Lady-in-Waiting?"

"No!" she called out quickly. "I'll be out in a moment."

Loki had risen, his face studying her intently as she cursed herself and dashed the traitorous tears from her eyes. Hermione needed to stand firm. She was going to teach Loki a painful, but very necessary, lesson; and then it was showtime. She almost stopped again when he traced the mirror with tender fingers, but she steeled her resolve and walked into the bedchamber.

Oh, adorable Thor, covering his eyes to honor her dignity. She hopped onto the bed and quickly adjusted the filmy material covering the bedroom mirror. She pulled the fabric aside so a sliver of her bared back would be on display. Then she lay exactly where she wanted him to view the action. The rest of their movements would be indistinct. And hopefully, drive him mad.

Once she was settled in, having tucked her breasts firmly under her chest and sinking into the lush coverings, she called for Thor, and he peeked out between his thumbs. Seeing no wayward parts, he gingerly climbed in the bed after her, kneeling by her side, unsure what to do next.

Hermione sighed in irritation. "You HAVE given a woman a back massage before, right?"

"Um, yes. Many times. Just never to one of my brother's women."

"Well, that's good to hear. And there's a first time for everything. On Earth – Midgard – we don't get hung up on familial technicalities. In a healthy relationship, there would be no cause for jealousy or concern. This action would be perfectly acceptable."

"I must remind you that –"

"I know, I'm not in Kansas anymore."

Thor wrinkled his brow, confused, but let the comment slide. She indicated the bedside dresser where a bottle of scented, warming oil sat, and he deftly picked it up and drizzled it down the length of her back, glad she'd pinned her hair up.

Thor let out another long, slow breath. He was having a difficult time staying objective. He was in a very alluring, attractive woman's bedchamber, with her half-naked form lounging just beneath his touch. It would be so effortless to flip her over and sample her succulent breasts.

Mentally slapping himself, Thor decided the best course of action would be to get this over with and pray his brother didn't assassinate him while he slept, or his father disown him from inheriting the crown.

Setting the bottle aside, he placed his large, battle-roughened hands on the delicate expanse of her back and began massaging her tight muscles, trying very hard not to delight too much in the way the oil smoothed so nicely under his hands and over her curves. Thor grit his teeth. This circumstance was not at all as easy as she'd told him it would be. On the contrary, he only just contained a deep groan as he felt his loins tighten dangerously.

==

Loki traced the mirror with his fingers, wishing he was in close contact with his love. The lovestruck God was at a complete loss on breaching this chasm grown between them. His heart ached, and his cock remained limp. This pain was not at all pleasurable, and he was miserable with their unspoken separation.

He was furious and wary that Thor had followed her after the evening meal like a bloodhound trailing a bitch in heat. But when he'd come upon her chamber, all was quiet, and his brother was nowhere in sight. Breathing a sigh of relief, he'd settled in with a potent bottle of liquor to drown his sorrow, resolved not to look upon his love and further his agony.

But he'd been unable to resist, and soon found himself seated, watching her in front of her bathroom mirror, glorying in her petite form, she placing pins in her hair in an intricate manner he'd not seen before. Curious, he reached out in a vain attempt to connect with her. Then her shift was at her waist, and he almost cried out, but instead allowed a tear to slide, unbidden, down his unshaven cheek.

Abruptly she covered her eyes, and he could tell she was trying not to cry. 'Oh, beloved!' his heart wailed, and he resolved as the alcohol kicked in he would confront her, now, and smash down the walls of ice that had built between them and reclaim his love. Before he could move, she turned her head and spoke to someone or something out of his view.

What was this? Frowning, he followed her as she moved into the bedchamber, climbing into his own bed to view her and he startled to see she'd covered her mirror with some type of filmy material, very light, but not quite opaque, and he could see her shadowy form folding into the bedcovers, her shift still at her waist, and the long, creamy expanse of her backbone; the rest of the scene obscured from sight.

He rested, then, content to watch her as she fell asleep, but she didn't turn out the light. Then a liquid was being poured onto the bared skin of her back, and a large pair of masculine hands filled his vision as they very obviously touched, caressed and massaged the oil into her delectable skin.

Who the fuck dared enter her bedchamber when she'd yet to invite her love into her inner sanctum!

Loki's blood turned instantly to a vicious boil, and he balled his hands so tightly into fists his short nails drew blood from his palms. He sat up and leaned in closer, determined to figure out the identity of this male who dared touch his most prized possession. And once he figured out who it was, he was going to kill the bastard for having the audacity to lay hands on his woman. He didn't care if he got tossed into the dungeons for eternity. The mystery man would PAY and dearly. And when he had slain the scum, he would deal very swiftly and brutally with his supposed beloved, as well, rendering her so heartbroken she would never love another. He would WRECK her for any other man.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit hits the fan and consequences.

Up and down, up and down. 

The feel of Thor's talented fingers and the heels of both hands dug deliciously into Hermione's back, shoulders and neck muscles. He hit places she hadn't known she'd even hurt before they melted away. Fucking hell, some of her KNOTS had knots. Like untying a mess of shoelaces, Thor managed to work out each kink and cranny one by one, never ceasing his hypnotic rhythm, and the longer he massaged her fair skin, the more entirely at ease she felt.

Hermione felt a mild sinking sensation like she was melting into the bed. Thor started shifting, and when his movements grew restless, she mumbled, "Wassa' matter?"

"My lower back is beginning to seize the slightest bit. I may have injured myself during the days' training."

"You can stop if ya' want," she mumbled again.

"Have I satisfactorily loosened your muscles?" he inquired, part of him hoping she would say yes so he could flee, yet another part of him oddly disappointed at the thought.

Hermione shrugged, then tensed up. "My right shoulder blade is still killing me. Can you work in that area? And maybe my lower back? You've hardly touched it, and it's one of my worst spots. I need to tone my core to get rid of that problem, but that doesn’t help me right now."

Thor stretched his large frame, cracking his back in several places and stretching out his fingers and arms in front of him, then to each side and the back. Thoroughly loosened, he got off the bed and moved to her other side. When that proved awkward, Hermione huffed and said in an irritated, tired voice, "Straddle me for God's sakes. You're going to kill yourself from that angle, and it hurts more than it helps."

Thor reached across her and grabbed the bottle of oil.

From his vantage point in the other room, Loki's breath caught as a muscular torso came into view briefly, then moved back out of the frame. There were so many muscular, built men in the kingdom; it was ridiculous. The dirty dog could be anyone at this point. He was sorely tempted to knock her door down but wanted to know exactly who he needed to slay while catching her in the act.

The crown Prince drizzled more oil generously over Hermione's upper back, continuing to rub at her from the side until she bit out an epithet, and he quickly maneuvered himself into a new position, gingerly placing himself over and straddling her bottom, but holding himself up off of her on his knees, so his groin was not in contact with her rear.

This change caused him to put too much of his strength and bulk behind the massage, and she complained again, starting to squirm, and he finally shushed her, slowly, very slowly lowering himself along her bottom, their intimate places almost connecting, although there were layers of clothes between them. Having found the correct position, Thor gingerly stroked and kneaded the additional soreness he'd caused her until she was practically boneless and snoring lightly.

When he tried to rise from her bottom, her hand shot back, and she protested. "Nuh-uh. Finish my lower back. You can't do three-quarters of the job and run away."

"Hermione," Thor said in a thick voice. "We are veering very close to perilous territory."

"You're imagining things. Now grab the oil and get to work."

But a disturbing buzz had begun to shift perceptions within his brain, and while his nether regions had calmed down after the first fifteen minutes, pulling Hermione’s shift far enough down to glimpse the top of her bum crack caused him to groan, unable to keep the reaction to himself this time. He was a man, after all.

Desperate to get away from her, he applied himself as vigorously as he dared, pushing and pulling, stretching and massaging until it was her turn to moan. "Oh, God, that feels SO GOOD. You have NO idea," she slurred, falling under the same effect as Thor.

Thor's thoughts started to muddle further, important points of distinction and caution slipping away, and the woman under him ceased to be Loki's beloved, and her identity merged into a faceless woman from his nightly dreams, only the one below him was well-formed and delicate. Thor usually chose thicker women to bed. They were hardier and could withstand his pounding. Well, this was a nice change. And she was pretty.

Hermione felt like her mind was floating. Her body was heating up to a slow burn, all sensation and arousal. But it was a lazy sort of arousal, the type where you have a hot dream, and you're half-awake but too tired to do anything about it.

The God of Thunder was sweating. Without a second thought, he shed his shirt, now bare to the waist. His hands continued to move over the woman's lower back, gradually inching lower and lower until he was halfway exposing her bottom, his erection now at full mast and a subconscious humping motion trying to urge its way through his hips.

Loki had retrieved another bottle of hard liquor, intent on drowning himself in Asgardian spirits when he was shocked to see the bare, muscular back of the man who had been clothed only moments before astride Hermione’s backside. The dark-haired God couldn't tell if the man had trousers on, and could only make out the rhythmic motion of his muscles undulating like snakes under his skin as he worked his hands and arms.

The unknown man leaned forward, and Loki shouted in surprise and sudden rage, so intense he practically howled, recognizing a very particular scar on his brother's lower back.

Thoroughly incensed, Loki flew off the bed to the adjoining wall and gathering as much of his power as he was able to hold, he released it in one tidal burst, sending rock, plaster, splinters of dresser and toiletries and other personal items exploding into the bedroom beyond.

==

Mayhem.

Pure, ultimate chaos.

The only thing Hermione remembered of the incident when she thought back on it was Thor's pained yelp and the sudden absence of him from astride her back. This experience coupled with an explosion like a cave-in or bomb, had gone off. All at once, bits of glaze and shards of wood pierced her skin all along the left side. She cried out, shielding her   
face, and instantly coming out of her half-dazed coma she reached under her pillow and snatched her wand.

Instinctively she rolled off the bed in the opposite direction and cast Protego, just in time, as the bed exploded in the next blast of magic and shattered an inferno of debris against her shield. Thor had knocked his head against the floor and was momentarily stunned, shaking his head to clear it, crawling to his knees. Luckily her shield covered the direction he'd fallen, or he would've impaled upon the ruined stakes of her bedposts.

Out of the dust and destruction stood Loki, an avenging God, skin turned blue and beautiful, tribal-like markings covering what she could see of his body. But his eyes – it was his eyes that sent her heart into her throat. They glowed red, but not an ordinary red, a blood-red, ruby if you viewed them from a different angle, and he turned them on her, stalking through the mess like it didn't exist, raising his hands once more to blast them out of existence.

Hermione stunned her lover three times in quick succession because he kept jumping to his feet after each blast. Then she turned him to stone. She froze him in mid-stride, the snarl still on his face and the beginning of a spell on his lips. 

Thor crawled over to her, pulling her into his chest.

"What – what the fuck just happened?" Hermione said, finally breaking down enough to realize Loki almost killed them.

"You received the outcome you expected. You, my Lady, have severely pissed off my brother. His vengeance will be great. We must leave. Either of us will be lucky to stand in his presence in less than a week's time. Come."

Shivering with regret, she reached for Loki and touched his stone face, leaning in to kiss him softly. "I didn't cheat on you. I – I only wanted to make you angry. You shouldn't have spied on me. And now I know I've probably made the biggest mistake of my life and lost you. I'm so sorry, my love. So very sorry."

She broke down, and Thor lifted her aching body, careful not to touch the wounds in her side. He climbed out of her window and let himself drop two stories to the ground, striding quickly across the deserted, late-night castle grounds to the nearest Healing facility.

==

Loki stood stiffly, formally, dressed to the nines in his highly polished armor. His mother had insisted, and despite his humiliation at his frozen form having been carted to her on a trolley, she had restored him to his Aesir form with little trouble. She had also prevented him from hunting down his brother and strangling the wretch with his bare hands.

Chaffing against her counsel he waited with her, fretting, bursts of magic escaping him at random intervals, which his mother calmly absorbed, gentling him when he raged, holding him when he cried, and quietly listening as he spilled the story in its entirety, even through to the end where he'd unknowingly transformed into his Jotun form and been so blind with grief and fury he didn't know whether he'd injured or maimed his beloved or traitorous brother.

Loki wanted to pass judgment on them NOW, but Frigga wouldn't hear of it. Only a day passed before they received word confirming that Hermione HAD been injured but was being treated in a Healing facility, and only needed to stay one more day for observation. Frigga smiled tightly when the corners of Loki's eyes relaxed minutely. It was a good sign. Her son still cared for her, despite his claims to the contrary every quarter of an hour.

Unable to keep the news from her husband for long, Odin stormed into her sitting room in a fit of temper, threatening to rain justice and retribution upon his squabbling children over the simple matter of the love of a fickle mortal.

Now it took Loki AND Frigga using every trick in the book to calm the All-Father. The residents of the city wondered what in the world brought one of the worst rainstorms they'd seen in decades, and why it departed in a matter of minutes. Animals, children and men, and women all went about their business, many looking like drowned rats, hanging out furniture and clothing and linens, grumbling about grumpy Gods and their personal problems.

Odin reluctantly agreed to allow his wife and eldest son to handle the matter, on the condition it resolved within three days or he would pass arbitrary judgment on the three scandalous young people.

Loki's only solace was that Thor was going to get his ass reamed out royally by their father once he chewed the crown prince a new asshole for being irresponsible again.

==

The three were placed a day and a half later in an arbitration room. No magic, no violent acts, no name-calling or shouting, and no overt threats to life could commence within, or the person in question would be enveloped in a cone of silence for five minutes to start, the silence and its duration increasing with each violation. This rule prevented too many outbursts and forced the offenders to listen to the others instead of out-shouting one another.

Loki hated this room. It brought back too many ugly memories of sitting in here for hours, forced to silence, for every time he and his brother were sat toe to toe to work out their problems like 'grown' men, they'd each stubbornly refused to give in for days until Odin had them whipped and sent them to their rooms like errant children. Thankfully those times were long past.

Hermione's eyes were wet, and she wouldn't meet his gaze. 'Guilty,' he thought and tried to hold his mother's words in his heart, but it hurt so much to see her refusing to even look in his direction, he couldn't help mentally lashing out at her.

Thor started the conversation. "Brother, first I would like to apologize, very deeply and sincerely, for causing you grief."

"You never cared about me. Either of you. I hate you both. Cheating, lying sacks of –"

Loki was cut off by a cone of silence for his verbal attack, and he shouted to no avail, punching the air with his fists but unable to rise from his seat. He snarled silently at them and spat on the floor.

Thor resumed calmly. "I don't expect your forgiveness, nor do I feel deserving of it at this time. But truly, Brother, I meant no harm, and I've never lain intimately with the Lady. I swear to you." There was nothing more to say, so he bowed his head and glanced at Hermione, who was struggling through silent tears to compose herself.

Finally, she looked up and quickly averted her gaze to the far wall, ashamed and devastated by the feral hate blazing in Loki's vivid, gorgeous green eyes she'd grown to love. Gathering her strength, she turned to him once more, trembling from what she perceived as the force of his will to strike her down.

"I will never be able to say I'm sorry enough times or prove to you I never wanted to hurt you this deeply." She kept speaking through the silent verbal onslaught dripping from his lips. "I can swear to you, that I haven't slept with anyone, including you, Loki, since I broke up with Ron four years ago. That's why it's taken me so long to give in to you. I'm afraid – that – that if I gave all of myself to you that you wouldn't want me anymore. That the chase and thrill of the hunt would be over, and you'd tire of me and move on."

Loki ceased raging and was leaned back now, stroking his chin thoughtfully as his gaze flit between Thor and Hermione.

"This is very difficult for me to admit, but you deserve honesty at this point, and have since the beginning. Two wrongs do not make a right. I was wrong, and yes, Thor was complicit in my little plan, but I practically forced him into it. And neither of us anticipated that the oil you left in my chambers was a late-acting aphrodisiac."

Loki's lips turned into a mean grin, sneering, and turning up his nose slightly as she continued.

"I am not proud of what I did. And as an Ambassador of Midgard, I'm deeply ashamed of my actions and will step down immediately and return to Earth. I'm not fit to live in your society, and especially not in your palace. I've never had a right to be here, and it's taken me sinking to one of the lowest levels I've ever crawled to, to realize that."

Loki's face turned pale, and he almost swore again, tapping his fingers impatiently for the Cone of Silence to wear off so he could say his piece.

"I'm sure you know by now that I've figured out what you did with the mirrors."

Oh, shit. No. Loki hadn't been aware of that little detail. Damn Mother for withholding information from him!

Hermione could see this was a surprise, and she caught her breath, angry now but trying to keep her voice steady, although some ire filtered through. "You didn't know, did you? That we knew? I was so – so angry with you, Loki. You betrayed my trust. It was bad enough in the beginning, yet you let the lie go on and on, and for the entire duration you were with me."

Loki hated how she was talking about them in the past tense as if their relationship was over. It wasn't over until HE decided it was over. She held no control over that aspect. If there were to be a break-up, he'd make it spectacular, but that needed to wait for another time.

"I was completely humiliated and creeped out, Loki. I mean, who does that? On Earth that’s a crime, and you'd land in prison for spying on someone without their express permission."

Thor nodded solemnly. "It's an imprisonable offense on Asgard, as well, but Mother has already pleaded leniency. Father has agreed not to act if we can come to an acceptable resolution."

Hermione held her head in her hands, curls spilling over them onto the table. Her voice was barely audible when she took a deep breath. "This next part, I think, was even more difficult to accept then the mirrors." Now she looked up directly into Loki's verdant green eyes, holding them with a steely finality. "I've been independently corresponding privately with two of the previous Ambassadors that preceded me to Asgard, as well as some government officials."

'Oh, shit. This is it,' Loki thought, desperately trying to quell the panic rising in his gut.

"I've only received official confirmation yesterday, and I was going to bring the matter to the attention of the court, but decided to discuss this with you first, to hear what you have to say. Your parents are aware I've received an official word, and are only waiting for the arbitration to be concluded before reading it for themselves. Getting to the point; a focused team of Russian healers was able to reverse some of the mind control damage you inflicted."

Loki winced visibly, shaken. Midgardians were so much more fragile then they looked! The memory control was never supposed to be damaging to the extent she was insinuating.

"There is some sort of official litigation happening back home that I am not privy to, but the evidence against you is damning if the victims decide to pursue charges. Right now, I'm not sure what to think about this additional information. I have no right to judge you, considering the stunt I pulled, but it doesn't look good. All I really want to know is; why did you spy on me? Why didn't you just come to me from the start?" 

Tears started falling from his beloved's beautiful chestnut eyes, and Loki was tempted, at first, to allow his heart to bleed onto the floor, take her into his arms and declare all of the situation a bad dream. Then she questioned his motives, and his mood's mercurial pendulum swung completely the other way. At last, Loki finally heard his breathing and counted to thirty to quell his rage to a dull roar in his pounding skull. "Do you want to know why I spied on you, my Lady?" he asked, his voice low and deadly.

"Yes," she nodded. "Truly. I want – and need - to know the truth."

"The truth," he spat, "is, I was so taken by you – I fell in love with you swiftly and deeply – and your body is so lovely, I was afraid that if I didn't find a way to slake my lust I'd have taken you against your will, far too soon, and hurt you, my dear. I am a man of my word and do not stray, so I had to find another way to satisfy myself. There isn't enough porn in the castle for a flea to masturbate to, much less a Prince."

Thor winced at the vulgarity but stayed silent.

"My life brims with action, drama, the highest of the highs and the lowest of the lows, my attraction to you wouldn't be satisfied by a mere twist of my wrist."

Hermione nodded slowly.

"I had no idea why you pulled away from me. What had I done wrong? You wounded me, threw up a wall between us, and I didn't know if you were going to break things off, or slam a door in my face. So I let you be, hoping you would come back to me." Loki paused here, tightening his hands into fists and opening them again, almost compulsively. "You ran to Thor instead of coming to me. You betrayed me; with my adopted brother, no less, you abhorrent sl-"

The cone of silence was thicker and sharper this time. Loki screamed at it, trying to tear through it. But it held him fast, both arms now pinned to his sides and unable to move his feet. His lips felt heavy, and he couldn't open his mouth except to breathe. Fucking cone of silence!

"Brother. Tread lightly. The Lady and I are complicit in this betrayal, but it was to teach you a lesson. No, I am not condoning the act," he said quickly when Loki's eyes narrowed at him. "I have never coveted your paramours. I merely wished to help and didn't realize how far we had taken it until you destroyed the wall and half her chambers. It was only her quick thinking that saved her life and prevented me from spending weeks recuperating."

Loki's eyes grew wide. He hadn't known his actions had almost killed his beloved. Oh, God. No wonder she didn't trust him, didn't love him anymore. He was a fucking monster. Flashes of time strobed through his memory, deep-seated antipathy, his skin turning to his Jotun form, savage magic flashing from his palms. Yes, his intent had been deadly. Just not aimed at HER. Only at his brother – who coincidentally, had been blasted off the bed behind her. So that is where his magic aimed true. Her skill with the wand prevented her untimely demise, or he'd be in the dungeons for murder. Loki dropped his head in defeat. He'd failed again. Just when he had his eye on the prize, reached out, could almost taste it, it was ripped cruelly from his grasp, never to be his again.

The cone dropped again eventually, and he panted raggedly, shaking out his limbs from the heaviness of the room's very impressive spellbinding.

"I'm sorry, Loki. I really, truly am. You'll never know how sorry I am."

Ten thousand thoughts and possibilities flew through Loki's altered mind, but he ignored them all. There was no point in retribution, revenge, petty bickering. All of the finger-pointing, shouting, humiliation, and other useless emotions didn't matter anymore. He'd lost her. And it was what he deserved.

"I think this discussion is over," he said to the room and was surprised it allowed him to stand up and walk out without a look back at the other injured parties.

Hermione stared after him in shock. "The room considered that to be a resolution? That's just ludicrous! We didn't solve anything by coming here!"

Thor shook his head, also rising. "I believe more got accomplished here than meets the eye. Loki was hell-bent on targeting both of us only moments ago. He never gives up this easily. Something touched him, and for his own sake, I pray he deals with it rationally and not resort to the antics in his past that have landed him in prison, in need of healing, or us believing him dead."

Hermione stayed at the table long after the others had left, her eyes shifting over the subtle, bland pattern on its surface, unseeing, uncaring. Her heart started to die, and a little piece of her soul went with it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot development, wise, wise Frigga has a couple of chats.

Chapter 7

Three agonizing days and no one had seen nor heard hide nor hair of Loki. Hermione remained listless, wandering through the palace in a daze. Thor did his best to cheer her but soon left her to her own devices as she randomly ambled away while he tried engaging her in conversation. Concerned, he went to his mother.

"Mother," he began, running a hand through his short hair. "I'm concerned about my brother and the Lady's welfare."

"I know, please sit down," she smiled, patting the chair next to her. They sipped tea quietly for a time, Thor, much more patient then he used to be. Frigga met his gaze and smiled again, tenderly.

"Mother, is Father going to punish them?" he asked, unbidden.

Frigga nodded sadly. "Yes, my son. The Midgardian government officials we have been in contact with required us to hand over Loki for his grave attacks upon the Ambassadors. What your brother considered to be a prank and a nuisance to be rid of has cost Asgard a great deal of monetary compensation. They have agreed to nullify the extradition clause if we guarantee Loki is no longer allowed contact with future Midgard Ambassadors to the palace. They refrain from sending another at this time, considering Lady Hermione has sent word of her immediate resignation. They, as are we, most saddened by this turn of events. But she is equally to blame in the outcome that very nearly destroyed lives dear to us."

Here the Queen stood and paced, wringing her hands in worry. "The All-Father has sentenced Loki to one year of arrest, to be served on the grounds of the castle under guard. He may move about freely, but Odin will strip him of his power. He will be mortal. With good behavior, the sentence will expire in one year and his powers and freedoms restored to him. Loki will also be subject to mandatory sessions, during his sentence, to Mind Healers, which the boy has avoided up until this time. They will hopefully help his troubled mind come to terms with not only the damage he has caused others but for the crimes perpetrated upon him. Some originating from within his own family."

Tears began falling down Frigga's beautiful cheeks, and Thor rose, taking his mother in his arms.

"Do not cry, Mother. These lessons are to teach him humility. We cannot afford to further alienate the Midgardian government. It is for the best."

"Yes," she said, voice muffled in her son's shoulder. "I was so terrified I was going to lose him – and you – once again. My heart would not survive another such event. There has been too much strife under the house of Odin. It must stop."

"Do you know of the Midgardian government's actions towards Lady Granger?" Thor asked tentatively, stroking gently down his mother's long hair.

"They may have their own form of punishment when she leaves for Midgard to conclude the ruins of her career. I do not know. The All-Father has sentenced her, if she decides to return and reside on Asgard, to work along-side you and Loki for the entirety of Loki's sentence."

Thor pulled back at arm's length, frowning deeply. "Surely, Father would not punish her too severely."

"The sentence is for the deliberate intent, fabrication, and execution of the tangled web of lies the lot of you have woven. For one year, the three of you shall work side by side, six days per week, in various tasks set before you. It may be tending the gardens, working in the kitchens, shoveling manure in the stables, or any other mundane task the palace Overseer sees fit to assign. You and the Lady will not have Loki's restrictions, provided you satisfactorily complete the tasks set out by the Overseer."

Thor and his mother sat once more in tandem, leaning forward, fingers linked together.

"I am almost afraid to ask of you to reveal who the overseer will be." He studied his mother's face as she tried to remain stern, and then tell-tale crinkles formed around her eyes while the curve of her lips tipped up just a fraction. "I knew it! Oh, thank the Norns!"

Frigga admonished him, but not unkindly. "Do not think that just because your mother is the Overseer, that your tasks will be pleasant or allow an excess of leisure time."

Thor nodded solemnly, eyes dropping to the floor. Frigga's heart went out to him just a little bit. It was so difficult being a young person and learning the hard way from your mistakes. "Do not tell your brother, but if the work is finished without complaint to the best of one's ability and a good attitude, the Overseer might just grant some time off duty for good behavior."

"Mother! You are very kind. It is more grace than I would have given even to myself."

"Then you have already started learning your own lesson in humility. I am not worried about the Lady not taking this to heart. She has already proven her distress by resigning her position voluntarily. I feel it is important to allow her time to grieve. You are forbidden from interfering in the future progress of her and Loki's relationship. They must work this out for themselves. You and Loki have enough work cut out for you to repair trust and brotherhood, which will be no easy task."

"Surely I will be able to converse with her!"

"Of course. Again, this is if the Lady decides to stay. She may not."

"Then I fear we may lose Loki once again, even if his body is present, his mind and spirit will be elsewhere."

"Yes, well, for now, leave the Lady be. As a woman, I understand the heartache she processes. It must be doubly so for mortals, with so little time to understand."

Thor looked frustrated, blowing out an exaggerated exhale as he reached over to a tray to pour more tea for his mother, who gracefully accepted, sipping it.

"The Lady will require a friend! How can I abandon her in her time of need if my brother will not comfort her? Her days bear the forlorn countenance of one who has lost something most precious to them. She mourns. If not I, then may Lady Sif take up the mantle of support? I do so hate seeing her suffer. It was my hope she and Loki would marry. They seemed so happy together."

Setting her teacup down pointedly, Frigga tried to explain. "Thor, despite your years, you and Loki are so young in the scope of Asgardian lifespans. One thing you must learn is to give Love time. We have all of it in the world if we are careful. Many problems work themselves out given that time and distance. Knots will unravel themselves, and the continuity of the future will play out if we do not try and force its hand."

Thor thought he understood, but it didn't help the growing unease in his gut. "I am ashamed of my behavior. For a short time, I coveted my brother's lover. It's a mistake I shall never forget."

"The desire was under duress, and perpetrated by the ingredients of an oil Loki should not have placed in the Lady's quarters in the first place. That part was not your fault. He will forgive you."

Thor looked sharply at his mother, frowning. "Loki does not forgive so easily, as you've reminded me once already. I do not anticipate this to be swift nor easy to attain."

Frigga sighed. "Have you forgotten what I just told you about time? Loki is difficult, even by a God's standards. He is proud and stubborn, his head full of flights of fancy and mischief, but the heart is pure, and most of his failings come from the misplaced rage he nurses at injustices caused him, both real and imagined. At one time he would move past them, but your Father and I's silence about his true parentage trapped him in a web of pain and stuck in time, he's been unable to move on from it. You have always derived the favor of Odin as his biological son and heir to the crown. The shadow Loki has within darkened his heart, and the nature of revealing his parentage did that darkness no favors. Loki may also be unwilling to part from his pain. In any case, Loki's wrongdoing is not a result of him not trusting the Lady. He doesn't trust himself."

Thor nodded. "He said as much in the arbitration chamber. My brother is most insightful of others, yet never so of his own inner workings. He seems to have developed the ability to analyze his motives, but overcoming them is a hurdle he hasn't mastered."

"Time, love," Frigga reminded gently. "That is one reason the counseling has been mandated. It might do you and the Lady good to seek out separate counsel as well. Thor, one of your weaknesses is impatience. However, you have greatly improved. If this is a lasting love between the Lady and Loki, the mortal will seek him out, or he will seek her, and they will be together."

Thor was still frustrated, and he stood, agitated, shifting from foot to foot as he turned in place, thinking. "The Lady does not have the sort of time we do, Mother. By the time Loki realizes what he has done, and what he is giving up, she may be an old woman, long moved on from his heart."

Frigga shrugged. "It is one of the downfalls of falling in love with mortals," she said calmly, finishing her tea. "Would you care for more?"

Thor muttered and waved her off, mumbling to himself.

"What was that?" his mother asked, tilting her head.

Thor turned back to her. "I said, I need to find him. We cannot afford for Loki to turn rogue once more. I must look after him and the least I can do after wounding him so deeply. His spirit is damaged and heals much more slowly than his physical form. I must try it."

Frigga agreed, humming, standing to embrace her handsome oldest son. "Then go. Find him, be with him. Convince him the mortal is worth it. And if you are able," here she gave a sly grin, "perhaps, between you and I, we can convince Idunn to grant the mortal a golden apple at Loki's wedding so that the girl may be a permanent part of our family."

Thor's eyes grew wide. "Mother! Are you telling me this as fact or as mere potentiality?"

"A daughter of witches does not confirm or deny her heart's fondest wishes. However, the bit about the apple? That is between you and I. Odin only need know when and if such an event comes to pass." She patted Thor on the back, standing to embrace him once more. "Go find your brother. Bring him back to me, to the bosom of his family. We will help him to heal and regain the stability in all forms of his life we've been so grave not to support in the past."

Thor's eyes had grown wide at the words his mother had expressed regarding keeping information from his Father, and he swallowed heavily, always nervous about defying Odin after being cast out once already. "I shall, Mother. I'll bring my brother back. Make sure the Lady stays. If she returns to Midgard, the fragile truce I am hoping to wield may collapse if he perceives abandonment once more."

"I understand but can make no guarantees. The Lady has free will, as do we all. I will not encourage her departure, but neither will I deny her decision to return to Midgard. Go. I'll tell your Father you're off on another mission and will return before the beginning of your sentence. And Godspeed."

Thor's hopes deflated at his mother's words. He would just have to convince Loki the Lady would be here waiting for him, or returning for him shortly if she'd returned to Earth. It was the only way he could fathom approaching Loki about coming home. What other incentive was there more considerable than recovering the love of your life?

The crown prince stood tall before the Queen. "Thank you, Mother. I love you."

"And I, you, my son."

Thor bowed, backing out of the Queen's chamber, then turned on heel and ran as fast as his feet could carry him to the stables. It said much about his agitated state he had forgotten the ability to fly via Moljnir.

\--

By the end of the second week, Loki absent, and Thor gone three-quarters of that time looking for his brother, Hermione finally came to her senses and stopped feeling sorry for herself. She was stronger than this! An Ambassador for God's sakes! Well, ex-Ambassador. Her notice and acceptance of resignation had already been sent in, and in return, had received a reply. And she felt like she'd royally let down the wizarding community. Yes, this had definitely been the best decision, but so very difficult to kiss a hard-won career, goodbye.

Having made a decision, Hemione packed what hadn't been destroyed or unable to be repaired by Loki's highly destructive blasts and made her way to the Queen and King to say goodbye.

"Leaving so soon?" Frigga asked Hermione as she approached the girl from the back, the girl loitering in the entrance to the throne room.

Hermione jumped, startled at being caught out, even though she hadn't been hiding.

"Oh, um, yes. I am. I was going to come, say goodbye to you and Odin. I will have another wizarding ambassador sent as soon as a suitable replacement is found."

Frigga nodded graciously, indicating to Hermione, "Walk with me."

Falling into step, the Queen continued, "Your government has informed me that they will not be sending another replacement. As I believe the saying goes, 'they wish to let the dust settle' before we resume Ambassadorial relations with them."

Hermione was thoughtful, and wondered why she hadn't been notified of this, but dismissed the thought, as it wasn't really relevant.

The Queen took her hand, giving her a motherly glance. "My younger son is very taken with you. I know he is absent for the time being, but I've learned to give Loki his space. He would never intentionally hurt you and was distraught at the damage he'd caused your person. His emotions run deeper than any well or spring, maybe even deeper than the roots of Yggdrasil itself. Loki has a great need to vent his frustrations. His time away will ensure that when he returns, he'll be of sound mind to approach you rationally. He has come a long way in his recovery."

Hermione was quiet, taking in all this information. "I hurt him. Yes, he hurt me, but I should have been mature about it and confronted him instead of trying to make him jealous. I honestly don't know what I was thinking."

"You weren't thinking, child," the Queen answered patronizingly, patting Hermione on the back. "Love is a fickle creature, and when it's consumed your heart, there is no rational explanation for many of our actions when driven by such a pure emotion, especially when it becomes tainted by distrust and doubt."

Hermione let the pretentious attitude slip because the Queen was right, and she'd had that one coming. "It doesn't excuse what I did."

"No, it doesn't," Frigga agreed, "but running away from Asgard will not solve your problems, either. Alas, being young is not a viable excuse to escape consequences, not that I believe you are doing so, mind. We have grown very fond of you, almost as a surrogate daughter. You are always welcome to remain with us. I, for one, would be saddened to see you leave permanently, however, the choice is yours alone. I take it my husband has briefed you on the judgment you're to fulfill if you do decide to return?"

Hermione's eyes teared up as they approached the throne room once more, having made a short loop through the grand hallways. "Yes, he has, and I must say, it's quite fair. I don't think I would have been so lenient in his stead."

Frigga smiled patiently. "Thor has said as much, as well. It seems at least two of you have already learned a modicum of humility and regret."

Nodding, Hermione stated, "You've been very kind to me — all of you. You speak the truth, and I appreciate it, my Lady," she said, dashing away tears and accepting the silken, hand-stitched, monogrammed handkerchief Frigga offered her. "Thank you for everything. I still think it best to go, take care of some long-overdue business. I-I don't know whether I will be back. I plan to but plans change. I am still desperately in love with Loki. The thought of losing him forever is unfathomable, but I don't know if he'll forgive me, or be able to trust me again. I'll just have to work it out on my own."

Frigga stopped her at the entrance to the throne room and turned the petite witch to face her, studying the girl's face for any sign of reluctance. No, the girl was serious. She wanted to leave after all. "Please reconsider. If not for Loki, then for me. It gets dreadfully boring around here, and I would be honored to call you daughter if you'd have me as a sort of honorary mother."

Hermione began crying all over again, and she allowed herself to fold into the Queen's arms, the older woman's heartfelt sentiment piercing Hermione's soft heart, and she knew at that exact moment that what she said next rang true. "I'll go home, take care of a few things then come back. I promise. Asgard has become a second home to me, and I need to take a long break from my work to figure out what I want to do with my life. I've worked so hard, for so long, falling in love with Loki blew up my ambitions, and I feel lost at sea."

"The lighthouse of Asgard will always burn brightly to guide you home," the wise Queen replied, smiling gently as she led the girl to an audience with her husband.

Odin wished her farewell and safe journeys, and if the older man's eye sparkled a little with moisture, it wasn't due to emotion. Oh no, it was a dust mote in his eye.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Water poured down from the sky, a steady deluge reminiscent of a million buckets being dumped simultaneously, that never ran out, and wouldn't stop coming for hours to come.

The God of Mischief had spent his rage on the vicious bands of Trolls that sought to invade Vanaheim but were more of a nuisance than anything else, but the pain never seemed to diminish. Arms opened wide to the sky, his scream was swallowed in the storm's wrath. Loki stood there, his body taking the brunt, savagely pelting his skin in a relentless pounding that reminded him of Thor's meaty fist.

And he screamed. And shouted. And yelled until his voice gave out, his legs would no longer support him, and his strength ebbed, body falling into the mud, hope leeching into the torn-up ground. Tears mingled with the moisture already creating small lakes in the countryside. For so long he allowed the grief to consume him, and then disappeared, back to the filthy room he'd let for the past couple of weeks. Not bothering to clean himself, the exhausted God fell face-first into the bed, needing oblivion to take him away from the nightmare of his heart.

\-- 

Thor burst into the seedy little tavern on Vanaheim in the middle of absolutely nowhere, the bustling atmosphere screeching to a halt. Every set of eyes turned toward Thor except for one, an odd-looking fellow practically hanging his head against the bar he was so drunk. Ten fingers pointed at the raggedy man and Thor nodded his thanks, hauling the near-comatose form up over his shoulder and walking out. Thor almost swore the entire building sighed with relief as soon as the door snapped shut behind him.

The blond God was irritated beyond belief. Loki had run him around in circles this time, whether by design or otherwise, mattered not. He got Mr. Raggedy back to the inn he'd rented a room that night and dropped the stinking man on the bed.

Bucket in hand, Thor collected some cold water from a nearby spring and hauled it back to his room, then threw the entire contents of it over the prone form on the bed.

Raggedy seemed to jump in shock, arms splaying out to the sides, the disguise melting and reforming into that of his wayward brother. A dagger had neatly fallen into each palm, and Thor just chuckled, flinging the bucket onto the floor with a loud 'Bang!'

Loki's bleary eyes focused and then he closed them again, deftly sheathing his daggers. Even drunk, his body and reflexes were deadly, unless you caught him mostly passed out as Thor had done.

"Brother," Loki moaned, waving at the cheery window filled with sunlight. "Draw the curtain. My head feels like a smashed pumpkin."

Thor rolled his eyes but did as bid, and Loki sighed with relief. "Oh, thank you. Please pass me the bottle. I think I'm sobering up again."

Looming over the bed, Thor crossed his arms and glared disgustedly at the poor excuse of a God Loki had allowed himself to become. "You reek of stale alcohol and pig offal. There shall be no more alcohol this day, or any day hence while you are recovering, and within my custody."

The knives came out again, but Thor was quicker this time, wrapping Loki in a bear hug and pinning him to the bed. "No, Brother. Not this time. You are coming back to Asgard with me whether you want to or not."

"Fuck OFF. Leave me, or I'll stab you."

"Try it, and I'll twist your stinking head off," Thor growled back.

But all Loki could do was wriggle his wrists uselessly and allow the daggers to fall with a clatter. "I give," he snarled bad-naturedly, suddenly free from Thor's bulk, and he promptly leaned over the bed and vomited until his sour stomach was empty and cramping.

"Sleep off your drunkenness, and we shall travel home together."

"I suppose everyone expects me to apologize to Lady Granger, sweep her off her feet, marry her and live happily ever after with a pack of squalling brats on a throne in some insignificant Asgard outpost no one's heard from in a century."

"I will not tolerate your drama, Loki. You've caused me a lot of trouble tracking you down."

"Then why did you bother! I was fine at the bottom of a bottle until you pulled my wretched carcass into this – this – hovel," Loki indicated, letting his face fall into the pillow.

Thor gingerly sat on the edge of the bed, careful to avoid the spattered vomit. "Loki, I know you find this hard to believe, but I love you. Your family loves you, regardless of blood relation. You've earned the love and fidelity of a remarkable Midgardian witch, who, I might add, is quite formidable in her talents, intellect, and force of personality. I highly doubt the pair of you would allow yourselves relegated to some backwater estate."

"Damn right," Loki's muffled voice acknowledged, then more tentatively, "What horrors has Odin concocted for my punishment this time? If you are simply bringing me home to be imprisoned or beheaded, you will have a fight on your hands."

Thor decided to put him out of his misery, not that the drunken sod deserved it. "Neither of those options hold true. Yes, there shall be punishment, but it is nothing you cannot handle, nor for an extensive length of time. Sleep. I will have the proprietors of this inn draw you a hot bath come morning. I've brought replacement clothing. What you are wearing isn't even fit to burn. Then, if you're up to it, we will eat a hearty meal, and begin our journey home. Heimdall will help us the rest of the way, once we've cleared this den of inequity you've fallen into."

Loki waved him away, so Thor left the room, stretching his bulk just outside the door in the hallway. It had been a VERY long, tiring day so the muscled warrior rolled up his cloak and stuffed it under his head, then leaned back against the wall, snores reverberating from his nostrils not five minutes later.

Loki allowed himself to pass out, oddly comforted by his brother's noisy slumber, guarding him like an errant child being dragged home for punishment which, he snorted inwardly before sleep claimed him, he was, as difficult as it was to admit.

\--

Thor had rarely been cheered more than he was to see the palace come into view. It had been a very long, dreary journey, dragging his brother, complaining the entire time, through some of the roughest terrain and weather he'd seen in the region for decades. It had taken them much longer to reach an area safe for Heimdall to transport them back from Vanaheim via the Bifrost. And if Loki kept up this level of bitching for one more minute, he was going to smash his fine-boned face in with Mjolnir.

"Loki! Shut up! I have no more patience for your complaints!" Thor shouted, twirling his hammer in a few circles. Loki rolled his eyes but complied, for about five minutes. Then he started in again, and Thor kicked the flanks of his horse into high gear, leaving Loki behind in a cloud of dust with his troublesome brother shouting, "Hey!" Thor didn't even stop once he'd pounded his heaving steed into the stableyard, dismounted with a nifty swing, and jogged out of sight.

Loki brought up the rear more slowly, holding his head high and deliberately placing an illusion of a refined, unruffled Prince to the fore. The stablehand that took his mare scratched his head and just bowed slightly, Loki deflating there weren't more subjects around to admire his suave arrival.

Now had come the moment of truth – he had to face his beloved, his Mother, and Odin. Solace hadn't been found in the bottom of a bottle, the addicting allure of fairy dust, wading knee-deep in troll blood, nor in screaming at the heavens. The truth was the second most challenging enemy of all to face. Hurtful rejection was only one step above that. Loki swallowed hard and made his way to the palace.

==

Frigga embraced her sons as each presented in her sitting chamber after they'd rested, cleaned up, and been fed a hearty meal. She bade them both stay awhile, summoning a servant with fresh, hot tea and cakes. It eased her mind and heart when Loki ripped into his brother for eating an entire tray of cakes like a wild boar rooting around in the mud.

It was good to have them home, and a small semblance of normalcy evidenced in their brothering squabbling.

When the edibles cleared away, she folded her hands primly in her lap, ensuring the rapt attention of both sons.

"I shall not reiterate the transgressions that happened under the sacred halls of this royal palace. Suffice to say, you are both grown men, and know better. I expect impeccable behavior, honesty, and respect for one another from now on, or I shall, at the end of your Father's sentencing, have both of you assigned to herding goats in Vanaheim for one year."

"Goats! Mother!" Loki protested, closing his mouth with a snap when Frigga whipped a finger into the air, her signal to 'shut the hell up now, boy.'

"And I will have the All-Father strip both of you of your abilities. Well, Loki's loss of magic would continue, but Thor, you would be held accountable as well. If one brother strays, the other will suffer the same fate. This potential consequence should provide an incentive to heed my words. They are not negotiable. Do you understand?"

Like wayward four-year-olds with their hands caught in the cookie jar, Thor and Loki both intoned, "Yes, Mother," at the same time.

Frigga smiled. Damn, she hadn't lost her touch. It was good to be Queen.

Smiling gently at her dark-haired son, she beckoned, and he leaned in more closely.

"Mother?"

"Your Father has informed you of your upcoming punishment?"

Loki nodded sullenly but otherwise said nothing.

"You have nothing further to say?"

"What is there to say, Mother? If I wish to atone, there are no choices or opinions to be voiced. I have decided to shed the mantle of despair and own up to my mistakes. I cannot promise to be perfect, but with some persuasion," and here he winked at his brother, "I'm sure everything will work out for the best. I don't like it but have no right to contest the judgment passed down for the outcome of my actions."

"Well, then!" Clapping her hands together to emphasize the transition, she abruptly changed the subject. "I am hosting a ball this weekend. The entire Kingdom may attend. Of course, much merriment will occur within the city. The palace security will need attending, as well as arrangements for guests, and a list of other duties I've assigned you –" she handed a scroll to Loki – "and you" – and an identical scroll to Thor. "I expect these duties performed precisely as indicated. These tasks will atone for the worry and grief you've caused your Father and me. Consider it a gesture of goodwill towards proving you are sincere as to completing your sentences. This list is above and beyond the duties to be completed during your sentencing."

Loki stood and held the edge of the scroll with his fingertips, then snapped the parchment outwards and gasped in outrage as it unfurled seven feet to the floor and a bit beyond. When he opened his mouth, Frigga's discipline finger was already in place, and his teeth snapped together once more, growling his frustration.

Thor followed suit, groaning at the length of his list, similar to Loki's. At least she gave them the same amount of work. Mother was not chancing favoritism arguments on the outcome of this additional disciplinary measure.

"The lists will need completion within the next five days. It is necessary to work together, with grace, courtesy, and civility. Welcome home, my sons," she finished, embracing them together, Loki rolling his eyes and Thor bear-hugging them both, Loki only wrapping one arm around their Mother and pinching Thor as hard as he could on the ass with the other.

"Loki, you will attend me. Thor, you are dismissed."

"Goodnight, Mother." Thor bowed, retiring for the evening, but not before sending an anxious and irritated glance at Loki, who waved Thor away, out of sight of their mother.

"Mother?" Loki cocked his head, questioning his Mother's detention.

"Sit, Loki."

For a few moments, Mother studied son, wondering exactly how to approach this delicate topic. Deciding simple was best, she forged onward.

"The Lady Granger has left for Earth."

"I KNEW it!" he started to rage, tempted to push away his Mother's 'shut the fuck up' finger that she once again held in front of him. "You cannot silence my grief, Mother. I loved her. I was a fool! A damn fool. Now I know why no one would answer my questions as to her whereabouts upon our arrival."

"Every being succumbs to folly throughout their lifetime, Loki. You are not exempt from this fate because you are a God, nor of the decisions of others to choose a path other than your own."

"Don't patronize me, Mother."

"Then listen to yourself. Sabotaging an outcome before it's ordained, is guaranteeing failure. When you set yourself up for it, there is no excuse to be upset it's come to pass."

"You're blaming me."

"Listen to yourself!" Frigga repeated, growing angry, disheartened her younger son still seemed so thick-headed. Loki was one of the most intelligent men she'd known, but so shortsighted when it came to correcting the ills of spirit.

"Wisdom does not come from blame or justifications. Once you've accepted the consequences of your actions without emotion, simply allowing them to be a part of you without assigning action or judgment, you can move forward and shed the disquiet your soul became accustomed to carrying. Think, Loki. The simplest answers are often right in front of you. This course of action is not complicated unless you deem it so."

Recognition lit his emerald green eyes, bringing them to life. For the first time since the terrible outcome, he smiled – really smiled – and felt it from the inside. "Mother?"

"Yes?"

"I think I do understand. Thank you."

"No more running, Loki."

"No, Mother. No more running. I know now that my place is here, with my family. Well, most of it." Loki allowed his eyes to fill with ill-disguised sadness.

"She will return."

Loki was silent, deflating a bit at the assertion, but shrugged. "Perhaps."

"I love you. Goodnight."

"And I, you. Goodnight, Mother." Loki stood to kiss his Mother on both cheeks, bowed, and retired.

Frigga twisted her handkerchief into knots, preliminary relief flooding her system. If she knew her boy, and she was positive she did, Loki had finally come around. Now, all they needed to do was wait.

Moving to her private bedchamber, the Queen opened an ornate wooden box and withdrew a looking glass. The crystal globe was an antique, given to her by the witches she'd been raised by. Focusing intensely, she settled herself on the bed, quieting her mind.

Then the Queen viewed the images for a time, nodded, and replaced the globe in its case.

And she smiled.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"Has she returned?" Thor shouted up the spiral staircase, and Loki jumped the railing, tackling his brother into a magnificent tussle. In the end, they both lay panting, laughing until their sides hurt.

Loki poked Thor in the side one last time, and joked, "If you ask me that question at the top of your lungs one more time, Brother, I'll throw the rest of our lists into the pond and relegate us both to a year of goat herding."

"Mother would not follow through with relegating us to goat-herding. It was an idle threat."

Loki shot Thor an incredulous look. "She was serious! Mother gave me the finger of 'shut your fucking mouth' three or four times! That woman was deadly serious."

"Your younger brother has grown wise in his time back home," Frigga declared, stepping from behind a pillar.

The brothers leaped to their feet, dusting themselves off, and bowing.

"Mother."

"Mother."

"We didn't know you were there," Loki said sheepishly, pulling his lips back in a grimace that said, 'or I wouldn't have said that in front of you.'

Frigga gave him an indulgent smile. "I harbor joy; my advice settles deep within your heart. You are proving yourself a changed man," she addressed Loki, who rocked forward and back on his heels in a sign of pride and embarrassment.

"Yes, well, I had every reason to stay."

Frigga started to tear up and covered her mouth with a trembling hand. "I've waited so long to hear those words spill from your lips, fearing I wasn't the mother of your heart."

Loki felt like his stomach was going to drop into an abyss, and he rushed forward, Thor on his heels, again embracing their Mother in tandem.

"I will not torment your heart in such a manner ever again, Mother. I didn't know you believed me capable of forsaking your place in my heart."

"You have always been my son. By blood or heart, your family is who you make it. I am comforted by your declaration."

Odin's staff broke them apart as he thumped it onto the ground three times.

"All-Father," Frigga addressed, moving to her husband's side. "How may I attend you?"

Odin looked severely at his sons and wife for several moments, amused he could still make his sons blanch with a single frown. Then he cracked a grin and summoned, "Do you have room for one more?"

The brothers gave each other incredulous stares and only snapped out of it when Frigga returned, "Certainly. Sons, come, let us embrace. This moment is a new beginning for Asgard. Our family is once again hale and hearty."

Within five minutes, the tale of the four embracing in the courtyard started spinning, and by nightfall, it had reached the outer edges of the Kingdom and beyond. A sense of contentment fell over the Realm; citizens were rejoicing the unity and strength of their Royal family.

\--

The ball was ready to commence. No one seemed to know what the occasion was, so individuals made up their own, and called it a Fair. If the royals wanted a party, they got one. Asgard was generous with their citizens, and each reaped the benefit of an enchanted palace.

Many made merry in more ways than one, the hour growing late and little ones tucked into bed.

Thor approached Loki in the topmost tower of the palace.

"I've been looking all over for you. Have you been up here the entire time?"

"Yes."

Thor followed his brother's gaze. The window looked out over the Bifrost, giving a magnificent view when it lit up with transport. One would have to be blind to miss a departure or arrival from this vantage point.

"No word?"

"She's not coming."

Thor let his head hang. They were back to this again: Moping Loki.

"Mother sent word –"

Loki spun around, "She's not fucking coming! Hermione should BE here by now! It was in her reply!" He flung a crumpled note at his brother and turned back, folding his arms and continuing his vigil.

"Mother won't be happy you intercepted her post."

Loki grunted, not responding further.

The note was simple, indicating the Lady's business had concluded, and she would be in attendance before the start of the ball — no signature, just an -H.

"I am sorry. We all thought, well, we were wrong. Come, Brother. Immerse yourself in levity. It will lighten your heart. Perhaps she was simply detained." Thor put a hand on Loki's shoulder, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. The Lady had always been prompt before this point. It did not look promising she had not shown when she'd indicated.

The dark-haired brother placed his own hand on top of Thor's shoulder in return, then re-folded his arms. "The only event that will lighten my heart will be the evidence of her love. As long as she is devoid of my life, emptiness will be my only true friend."

Thor removed his hand, wanting to tell Loki to stop with his theatrical posturing, but somewhere inside he ached. Loki had indeed changed, in evidence each day he'd been back. 

The blond God wondered what their Mother had said to Loki, and would have paid handsomely to be a fly on the wall to that conversation. Alas, the facts were pointing towards the Lady getting cold feet. He couldn't help but sympathize.

"I will be up late if you wish to join me in the Hall."

Loki nodded, still facing forward, and Thor made his way back down to the festivities, the bright camaraderie of the night dimming with his brother's misery.

The Bifrost remained dark all of that night and most of the following week, no eyes, save Heimdall's, left to view the beautiful display and greet the late-night arrival.


	10. Chapter 10

"Ah-choo!"

Loki sneezed, sleepily rubbing a finger over his itchy nose. A few moments into drifting off another tickle caused an irritated bat at whatever was accosting his sensitive nostrils. The third time he was pulled from his slumber with grumping annoyance, and more fully awake but unwilling to open his eyes as of yet, startled at the feminine giggle at his bedside.

Feigning sleep, Loki opened his eyelids just a slit, having seen nothing out of the ordinary when he'd initially peered into the gloom. Just in case, he conjured a wicked blade in his hand that was hidden beneath the pillow.

Now his entire body was roused, a live wire ready to strike the imbecile daring to intrude within his private sanctum.

Alert to the intruder, the subtle presence filled the space in front of him, and he struck, free hand pulling a head full of hair backward, the deadly blade in his other pressed in warning against the perpetrator's throat.

"Ow!" the woman cried out, "you're hurting me!"

Loki felt his heart drop into his stomach as he recognized Hermione, and he flung the blade away, flopping uselessly back onto his bed. "Do not EVER sneak up on me while I am sleeping. I could have slit your throat," he growled, but it was a playful bluff with no bite, and he rolled over to his other side, trying to get comfortable.

The weight continued to press down the mattress by his feet, the feminine voice clearing her throat. "I've missed you too," she said, then moved upwards on all fours, testing the waters, giving him time to refuse her advances if he wished.

Trying not to smile, Loki continued the little game, desperate to shout in elation, to the entire Realm, that she had chosen HIM! Returned to HIM. Such action sealed her place in his heart, mind, and eternity, his intention never to allow her to slip away, or his damnable penchant for errant behavior to come between them, ever again.

Almost traveled up to his chest, she shrieked, Loki grabbing her 'round the middle, shouting, "Surprise!" and pinning her to the bed. His breathing hitched when he saw her more clearly, poised inches from her creamy bosom, encased in a black lace bra trimmed in Loki green. "Oh, dearest. You've outdone yourself," he purred, and plunged his face between her luscious mounds, motor-boating her tits as she squealed in surprise, allowing him to finish by kissing up from there to the smooth column of her throat to her lips.

Holding steady, Loki gave her the barest caress, lips touching like two ghosts yearning for one another, but never able to connect. Sipping sweet kisses, his chest ignited in a slow burn, the satisfaction she'd returned to him warring with his anger to have kept him waiting, believing she'd forsaken him.

Love won out, and he squashed down the anger, vowing to take it out on her in pleasurable ways only, part of his 'changed God' program, as he mentally coined the ongoing event.

"Oh, God," she groaned softly, illuminating feeling with gentle caresses through his hair and down his naked back.

"Yes?" he smirked, never letting up his litany of gratifying lip torture.

"I'm sorry," she began, but he pulled a Frigga and hushed her with one finger to her lips.

"No. There will be no more apologies. You are here, and the rest is behind us. This is enough. Stay with me. Show me, I am yours, and you are mine. That is enough."

"Loki," she sobbed out, and she surged up and around in his embrace, and he held onto her for dear life, allowing her tears to shed without judgment or impatience. When they ceased flowing, he lowered her back down and studied her gently.

"You will be my wife."

"Yes. I want that so much."

"Only my gifts of jewelry will grace your lovely hands and fingers."

"Only yours, Loki."

"This body is mine. I am a jealous, covetous bastard, with a heart of gold. Stay with me. Bind yourself to me, and you will want for nothing in all of the Nine."

"Ditto. And I accept."

"Ditto …" he mouthed, confused.

"It means, 'the same,' so I don't have to repeat everything you just said. I agree. Me agreeing with what you just said."

He smiled in understanding. "Ah, yes. You've held my heart from the first day I tried to tempt you into my bed."

"Even though you only wanted my body?"

"At first," he admitted. "But now… oh, my love is … boundless. I will prove it to you every day until you can no longer walk, your eyes see nothing but my devotion and adoration, and you bear our children to overtake the legacy of Kings."

"You speak as a poet writes," she observed, awed by his silver tongue.

Then she frowned, and he stopped toying with her curls, tucking one behind her ear. "What troubles you?" he asked with a frown.

"I'm wondering why we're still talking instead of getting naked."

"Easily remedied," he grinned, waving a hand over them in a complicated pattern, removing their garments to a side table.

"Make love to me."

"Repeat it. Beg me."

"Please, Loki. Please make love to me. Fuck me. I'm done crying, masturbating myself stupid every night, longing for your touch. If you don't fuck me, I'm going to claim temporary insanity and take it for myself."

"Ooohhh, threats. I like that."

But he was spurred to action, rubbing his body along hers, relishing the feel of flesh on flesh, fully, for the first time in their short, but tumultuous, relationship. "No more secrets," he confirmed, and Hermione hummed agreement.

Loki prepared her languidly, capturing her mouth in random fits of passion, slowing down to nibble, lick and suck all over her body, avoiding where she needed him most. He wanted her to break, to do as she'd threatened and consumed his soul. About twenty minutes in she pushed him from her and he allowed it, falling to his back, she straddling his hips.

"Dammit, Loki! I know I deserve this, but I'm not playing. If you don't put your cock inside of me right now, you're going to see one very pissed off witch."

"By all means," he teased, backpedaling when she summoned her wand and pointed it at his head. "Easy, love. I'm only kidding."

"I'm not," she husked, and spelled his limbs spread-eagle to the four corners of the bed, strung out like a Thanksgiving turkey on display.

"Wh-what are you doing?" he stuttered, taken off guard. This wasn't what he'd had in mind. Loki was the dominant one, this position frightening him a bit at the loss of control. And although he yearned to magic himself free, Loki resisted, determined to allow her this moment in a show of trust, as difficult as it was to sacrifice.

"Shh, trust me," she whispered, feathering the shell of his ear with her tongue, enjoying the hitch of his chest as she kept the touch light, laving along his jawbone and down to his Adam's apple. Suckling the prominent bump at his throat, she followed it up and down when he swallowed hard several times in quick succession.

"Hermione," he gasped out, "please, touch me."

"I am touching you," she responded, following his breastbone and down to his nipples with the tip of her tongue.

"More," he groaned in agony. "This is torture."

"I thought you liked torture," she countered.

"I do, but, AH!" he cut off, arching when she took his nipple into her mouth, suckling it, tweaking its twin to a hard peak.

"Nipples are an often overlooked erotic zone of the male anatomy," she quipped as if lecturing him on health sciences.

"You sound like a book of sexual instruction," he tried to snark but arched again when she spelled her wand to buzz, touching the tips of each nipple lightly, allowing the erotic sensation to overwhelm his senses.

"If you keep this up I'm going to spill before I'm even inside of you," he gasped.

"Is that a bad thing?" she asked, now suckling again and holding the buzzing wand to his opposite.

"GODS – NORNS – uh, no NO! But I need to be inside of you – OH SHIT!"

"You will be. Patience, darling," she quipped back at him, and he closed his eyes in happy defeat. This enchanting, maddening witch could play him however she pleased. Even if she hurt him, he would welcome every touch with a prayer and a song, eternally grateful for having been given a chance to prove himself once more.

Trails of ecstasy followed her buzzing wand everywhere she tantalized his over-sensitized skin. Thinking for a moment, she Summoned a bottle of the massage oil Loki had left in her room, the last one that thankfully had been spared his wrath.

"What are you doing?" he asked, craning his neck to see.

"That's for me to know, and you to feel," Hermione said firmly, then spelled a blindfold over his eyes.

"Hey!"

"Shush, loverboy. Don't make me gag you too."

"Oh, my, what a nasty witch. Mmmmm!" he sounded, a substantial ballgag now in his mouth and between his teeth.

"You look so, so hot naked, helpless, and at my mercy," Hermione teased, then drizzled the warmed contents of the oil over his chest and stomach. Massaging it in, she took her time, ensuring every last drop was thoroughly, deeply absorbed into every last bit of skin she could reach, excluding his groin, which sported an impressive, hard and copiously weeping prick. Little noises emanated from her lover's throat.

Figuring she'd tortured him long enough this round, she stepped away and let him think she was going to leave him thereby opening and slamming the door, saying, "Goodbye! I'll be back after dinner!"

A loud sound grated from around the gag, Loki straining at the wrists. She couldn't keep herself from breaking into laughter at the exact moment he tried to magick himself free of the restraints and failed, a completely panicked expression and sound coming from his prone body as he genuinely struggled.

Running back over to the bed, she assured him everything was okay, and she wasn't really leaving, and his entire body went boneless, a sigh leaking from around the drool running out the side of his mouth.

"I'm sorry, love. I won't do that again," she told him, and he nodded, seeming to relax now that she was back.

Without warning, she lowered her mouth over his eager cock, wrapping her full lips around the head, swirling her tongue around and around to collect his emission, swallowing and sucking gently. His body bowed off the bed again, and strangled noises erupted from his throat once more. He sounded distressed, so she spelled the gag away, and his cries instantly filled the room, breaking free at last.

"Fucking hell, darling, you're killing me!"

"This is only the 'little death,' lover," she shot back, and fellated him beautifully, Loki trying to pump into her mouth, but she instead straddled him and turned, offering her pussy to his face like a divine benediction.

"I'll let you come down my throat if you eat me out," she said nastily.

"You are a provocative, nasty maiden," he growled, then started working her over when her cunt pressed into his face, happy to have a job at last.

"I'm your filthy maiden." Hermione was really enjoying herself. Books really did come in handy.

"Mmm-hmmm," he agreed heartily, licking her folds with his long, talented tongue, wiggling the tip over her clit.

"Oh, shit, Loki, yes!"

Both of their mouths were then busy, she holding him down, working over his shaft enthusiastically, feeling him instinctively trying to thrust into her mouth and moaning. Her dark God was sucking on her clit as she ground down into his face, and briefly wondered if she was suffocating him, but he didn't seem to mind, so she re-applied herself even more ardently until his mouth stopped working and she rose up to give him air, Loki crying out something in another language, and shouting at the top of his lungs as he came hard, beautifully, copiously in her mouth. Hermione took everything he presented to her, swallowing it all, and softened her suction until he slipped from her lips with a soft 'pop.'

"I never have. Ever. In all of my centuries, been fellated half as amazing as that, darling," he gasped, his breath slowly coming under control.

Hermione laughed. "Fellating is a very old-fashioned term. The slang now is blow-job, giving head, suck dick, etc.

"You are a walking fountain of Midgardian carnal knowledge."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Darling, let me finish performing cunnilingus-"

"It's called eating out, eating pussy, carpet munching, oral sex, etc.," she corrected again, and he huffed back at her.

"Educate me later. I need to taste your nectar."

"That's better." Lowering herself once more, she kissed his thighs while he brought her expertly to the heights, her stomach trembling, knees digging into the bed, riding the shit out of his mouth, nose, and chin. By the sound of things, her lover was very much enjoying himself.

After a few tense moments, she cried out beautifully. "Loki! Oh, shit, you are a fucking GOD! YES!" and moaned, pumping her pussy over his mouth, his tongue and lips never slowing until she slid bonelessly off to one side, recovering.

"You were correct in your assessment of at least one thing," he said, sounding serious.

"And that is?"

"I am a fucking God. When we are through, which will not be for hours, I assure you, I will have proven that to you enough to etch it permanently into your soul, the only name dripping from your lovely lips will be, 'Loki.' For all time."

"Fucking hell you have a way with words."

She sluggishly set him free with a flick of her wrist, and he sprung up instantly hauling her, protesting, to the edge of the bed, bending her immediately over it, holding hands behind her back and shoving his renewed prick back into her sodden pussy.

"Let me rest!" she protested, and he laughed.

"There is no rest for the wicked, my dear. This is what I like to call, the 'bitch' position. Payment for forcing my submission."

Like a wildcat, she tried to buck him off, but he only gripped her hips more tightly and dropped his weight onto her upper back, whispering the filthiest epithets he could summon into her auditory canal, feeling her body tightening in record time. Oh, Norns, how Loki had longed for this.

"That's right, darling, I can feel your body priming, milking my length, and you're such a good, good girl, taking all of me. That's right, squeeze me – oooh yes – good girl …. Fuck darling. Take me. Take me. I am yours."

Hermione was amused he was such a vocal lover but found she enjoyed it. The way he spoke was divine, voice dropping a register or three in the throes of orgasm, deep honeyed groans of satisfaction that would lower the knickers of any willing being with a pulse.

Feeling him deep inside of her, his hips snapping faster and harder as he chased a second orgasm, she started keening, staccato bursts from her lungs in time with his possession.

"Fuck me like a God, Loki. Do it!" she urged, and he closed his eyes, gritting his teeth.

"You don't want to taste my full power, lass. I'd rip your mortal body into pieces."

"Try me."

"Don't tempt me, dearest, I'm almost at my breaking point," he gasped, hunching into her with unnatural speed and force, and then he did drive the breath from her, unable to even scream as he did as urged and let go for a few moments, pressing so brutally and deeply inside her molten cunt that her mouth opened in a silent scream, pussy clenching, a frenzy of spasm around his substantial cock, squirting a stream of liquid onto the covers and down her legs, generously oiling his piston until he slammed tight, holding himself joined at their most intimate of places, shouting again, venting his lustful rage into the room, echoing off the walls, and severely testing the limits of the guards forced to listen to the fuckfest just inside the door.

Loki felt as if the high would never end, his head swimming in a tidal wave of haze, dimly realizing she'd gushed over him, allowing his instincts to take control and rut mindlessly until he blew inside of her, hard, ejaculating until his bollocks were utterly empty.

Sighing, soaked with perspiration, exhausted, he stood, pulling out and feeling pride at the parade of fluids escaping down her inner thighs, dripping obscenely all over.

Hermione tried to crawl away, and he turned her gently, settling her into the middle of the bed, allowing her space. Loki softly, gently pushed her tangled, wet curls from her face, wiping away the cooling beads of sweat. Concerned when her eyes remained closed, he asked nervously, "Are you hurt? Was I too much?"

He didn't realize he was holding his breath until she smiled, murmuring she was fine, and he was hotter than any mystery man in her wildest dreams. Oh yes, this Midgard witch knew how to stroke his ego sufficiently. A noble and necessary trait in any wife who would lay claim to the drama king and God of Mischief.

Exhaling noisily, Loki cleaned them with a few motions of his hands, and she thanked him, falling into a deep slumber almost instantly.

"I'm going to have to build your endurance, darling if you're to keep up with a libidinous God," he whispered to his future wife's sleeping form.

Deciding to make use of the time she rested, he drew a hot bath, lowering Hermione's slumbering body into the brew, oils, and herbs to soak the ache, bruises, and tiredness from her over-taxed body. Loki placed a palm on her forehead when she started to stir, and she fell deeply asleep once more, the God very careful to keep her head above water as he climbed in with her, washing her tenderly until every nook and cranny had been pampered.

Loki teleported them the short distance to his now-clean bed (by the Norns magic was useful), tucked her naked form under the sheets and kissed the beauty's sweet-smelling forehead, stroking it fondly. Then he dressed and strode from the chamber, instructing the guards to allow no one entry or to disturb his guest, and stalked down the hallway in search of his father.


	11. Chapter 11

Odin grumbled at the insistent pounding on his bedchamber door. It had better be an urgent matter, or someone’s head was going to roll. Especially since he’d been coitus-interruptis with his lovely wife, who sighed, flinging her hands over her head in frustration while Odin strode naked to the door and flung it open.

“WHAT IS IT?”

Loki lowered the fist he’d risen to knock again, his mouth opening and closing uselessly like a fish out of water, his eyes widening, flickering between his father’s enraged visage and the All-Father's engorged, dripping family jewels.

“Never mind!” he squeaked in falsetto, blinking away just as his father’s large, angry hand made a swipe at him.

“Who was it?” Frigga called when Odin slammed the door shut so hard the hinges groaned.

“Even centuries old, and the damn kids are still intruding while I’m busy.”

He crawled back into bed. “Which one this time?” his wife soothed, reviving her husband’s interest quickly enough with one hand.

“Loki.”

“Don’t be too hard on him, dear. I’m sure it was important, and he didn’t realize the time.”

“He knows better than to bother me when I’m not on the throne.”

“Hush. He’s just a boy.”

“Yes, a boy that is ten centuries old. What do you suppose he wanted? Ooh, that’s very nice, keep doing that, wife,” he teased, running a thumb over her cheek and lower lip, which   
she nipped playfully.

“Probably something to do with a fair maiden.”

“If that’s the case, good for him. About time he took a serious interest. I’m not getting any younger. Thor hasn’t sired any heirs. Loki may just beat him to it.”

“I like how you think. That is exactly my educated guess as well.”

“Then we’ll have to just encourage him along, eh, my love?”

“Yes. But tomorrow. Right now I’d rather finish what we started.”

“Who said anything about finishing? I’m far from done sampling your scrumptious charms, wife.”

“We really must do this more often.”

Odin stilled, and Frigga stroked his beard. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I miss you,” he said simply, openly, honestly, all guile cleared away by recent events. Even old, stubborn Gods needed reminding of the crucial aspects of near-immortality from time to time.

“Please come back to my bed. Haven’t I been punished long enough? I haven’t had an affair in over two thousand years. That has to count for something.”

Frigga pretended to contemplate, then gave an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, alright. But only because I miss this,” and she grabbed him most intimately, causing a chuckle and a grab in return.

“Is that all?”

“Well, there *might* be a dried-up old nugget of love rolling around in my ancient heart. If you replenish it, I’m sure it will grow beautiful and strong once more.”

“I like how you think, wife. My love for you is revived tenfold. Accept my apologies for the anguish this old God has caused you.”

“You’re forgiven, dear. You always were.”

“Then come here and give us a kiss.”

“With pleasure.”

\--

Hermione woke slowly, moaning at the insistent pressure at her nipples, like they were both being sucked simultaneously, a large, well-oiled cock making love to her very gently, sliding so smoothly it felt like an extension of her body.

“Good morning,” Loki breathed, kissing the side of her temple, hitching her leg up and back slightly so he could have easier access to her dripping pussy. “You are divine, darling. If this is what I will wake up to for eternity, I will die happy.”

“Only for you,” she said sleepily, still half in dreamland, but quickly coming awake as her arousal was stoked, spiraling in lazy circles through her belly.

“Keep that up, and I won’t be able to keep this slow and gentle. You fire my blood, your body molding my lust into the finest weapon, carving your pleasure out of rest, teasing your tired body into a conscious miasma of depravity, accepting all of me, taking my love into you until we balloon, bursting together, supernovas merging and falling silent, growing dark, until we begin again.”

“You really need to write this shit down,” she laughed, and he frowned.

“It’s not ‘shit.’ Do you really think it’s shit?”

“That’s not what I meant! Um, just that it’s excellent. You could make a lot of money selling stuff like that back on Earth.”

“Interesting prospect. Perhaps I will wheedle Stark into investing in a publishing company. Odinson Enterprises.”

“That has a nice ring to it.”

“Hmmm, perhaps. Let me finish worshipping your body, and I have a little surprise for you later on.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Touch yourself, darling,” he urged, and she obliged, circling her clit, pulling and mashing lightly, dipping her fingers down to encircle his pumping cock, constricting her grip around it, loving his warning growl.

“Love, please, let me do this my way.”

“I want it hard, Loki, please?” she wheedled.

Loki’s heart beat fiercely, his lusty side roaring to the fore.

“Since you asked so nicely.”

He cocked her legs, climbing between them, her on her back, pushing them up and over his arms until she was folded in half, re-entering her carefully. “Are you ready?”

“For you? Always.”

“Good Norns you excite me!” he cried out, slamming back into her, setting up a punishing pace, their bodies slapping together in the morning light until he ejaculated in her strongly, calling out her name over and over, telling her he loved her.

Loki dropped low after pulling out, and lowered his face to her cunt, consuming their mingled emissions, pleasuring her expertly, pulling a body-shaking orgasm from her and swelling with pride when she called out his name and title. ‘This woman will be the death of me. Bless her,’ he thought.

After they’d cleaned up, Hermione was confused when Loki bade her stay in the rooms for a short time, but did so, contenting herself with a tray from the kitchens, a pot of tea and a good book.

==

Loki strode into the throne room with purpose, and Frigga could see an immediate change in him. Gone was the lost little boy, lashing out at the world, and in walked the God, pale and robust, cock-sure, ready to lay his claim. ‘It’s about damn time,’ she thought privately.

All commotion and discussion ceased immediately, Loki excusing himself to the front of the court, boldly climbing the stairs until face to face with his mother and father.

Odin was mildly amused, figuring Loki would speak of whatever he’d pounded on his door for last night.

“Loki,” Odin addressed, “I trust your night was uneventful?”

Frigga had never seen her boy's face turn as scarlet as it was in that moment, and she would later chastise her husband for teasing him so in court. “Y-yes, Father. I have a request.”

“Ah. The matter which was so urgent you pounded on my chamber in the wee hours?”

Loki started to back away, but Frigga reached out and grabbed his sleeve. “Come back. Your Father is teasing.” 

She shot Odin a stern look. “Stop. This must be important.” 

Smiling back to her son, she urged him, “Please, son. You have our undivided attention. What can we do for you?”

The God of Mischief was able to gather himself once more, and stood tall, raising his voice for all to hear. “I wish to claim part of my inheritance.”

That wasn’t exactly what his parents had been expecting, which was evidenced in the wary glance they shared.

“Which part?” Odin expressed carefully, tempering his tone. It wouldn’t do to presume Loki had the balls to ask for something the All-Father was unable- or unwilling -to give. If his son did ask for such, there would be Hel to pay. The young man knew better. Odin was relieved, though, at the actual request.

“The betrothal rings. I am to declare, publicly, my intent to wed the mortal, Lady Hermione Granger of Midgard. After our combined sentence, I will gift her a Golden apple, and when our marriage is consummated, will bear an heir to the throne, Odin willing.”

Loki kneeled and a collective, hushed sigh settled over the court, the women bringing their hands to their chests in awe, the men eyeing one another, edging away from any woman who might be getting ideas, bemoaning another bachelor caught in the love's fickle snare.

Odin opened his mouth to speak and was interrupted by Thor, Sif and the Warriors Three barging in, singing a victory song about a battle won, dirty from the field, dumping bags of gold and jewels at the foot of the stairs.

“I bring glad tidings, Father! We’ve vanquished another enemy, bringing peace once again to the Nine Realms, and I gift you with the spoils of combat! Here here!” he cheered, raising a fist in victory, lowering it uncertainly as he noticed the deathly quiet of the court, nervous glances being cast between him and the King.

Odin stood, lifted a finger to his lips and indicated they kneel, which the five warriors immediately did, bowing their heads. Whatever it was, they had interrupted something important, and this was an immediate atonement for the misdeed.

Satisfied, he boomed, “You may rise.” Then, with Loki still knelt before him, head bowed in respect, Odin touched his son’s head, placing his palm at Loki's crown, and Frigga joining him in blessing the boy's declaration of intent. “Your request to wed the mortal, Lady Hermione Granger of Midgard, and to grant her long life on Asgard, potential bearer of the future heir to the throne, has been granted. You will inform the court when you’ve set a date for your nuptials, not to precede the end of the assigned sentencing, and we shall procure a grand celebration in your honor. Blessings, my son. Go to your intended, with our blessing. You may rise.”

Loki swallowed hard, and Odin grabbed hold of his hand, uncurling Loki’s clenched fist, then leaned over and blew a long breath into his son's palm, running his opposite hand over the top, and pulling back.

A set of gorgeous, stunning betrothal rings glittered beautifully in Loki's palm, and one of the widest smiles he’d ever bestowed upon his father and mother cracked brighter than the most spectacular Asgardian dawn.

“Thank you, Father, Mother. I shall make you proud.”

As his parents embraced him, the breath was squished from Loki's lungs from behind as Thor slapped his back, hard, and crushed him tightly. “My baby brother is getting married! I’ll be damned! Long live Prince Loki of Asgard and his bride-to-be!” he shouted, deafening the poor dark God, who wriggled to get away as the noise level grew to an intolerable level as the court burst into ecstatic exaltation.

Remembering he was a God, Loki snapped his fingers and popped away, everyone in court laughing when Thor fell forward onto his father, amused and unsurprised Loki had immediately fled the crushing embrace.


	12. Chapter 12

Loki found out how very, very happy a stunning ring and proper Midgardian proposal made his intended, as after they'd had their meal, everyone clapping and congratulating them, they made their way back to Loki's chambers, and Hermione showed him just how thrilled she really was.

Reality set in a short time after that as their sentence began, Hermione, Loki, and Thor all laboring at the various tasks the Queen set before them.

It was difficult, at first, mostly for Loki. His immortality and powers had been stripped of him privately. There was a modicum of difficulty in adjusting to the shortcomings of a mortal body. He resented tiring long before his brother, only lasting one or two rounds of sex with his intended instead of four, and getting sick with something known as the Common Cold.

Staunch supporters by his side, Loki was able to keep grumbling to a minimum. The days seemed to fly by when focused on the task ahead, with so much to gain after that.

The toughest part for Loki was mandatory counseling. If anything were to cause him to break faith, it had to be spilling his innermost private feelings to someone he barely knew. Again, Frigga came to the rescue, bringing in a light Elf who specialized in mind healing. No citizen of Asgard would be the bearer of gossip as to the very private sessions that benefitted Loki more than anyone thought possible.

The year of sentence drew to a close, and an informal celebration was held, Loki's powers and immortality restored, and a very, very happy God of Mischief reveling in his returned virility and endurance.

The wedding was, indeed, very grand, an affair so lavish it made the previous celebration ball look like a kid's backyard birthday party in comparison. Loki became alarmed when Hermione almost hyperventilated at some of the costly, rare and precious gifts that were bestowed upon them, assuring her it was typical fare for royalty, and she'd just have to get used to it.

The biggest surprise came when Odin himself presented his new daughte-in-law with a Golden apple. The entire assembly hushed, filled with wonder as the mantel of immortality was bestowed upon the mortal deemed worthy by the Royal Family of Asgard. Songs and stories would be relayed for years about the mortal that had captured the God of Mischief's semi-hardened heart and blessed the Realm with goodness and light.

Loki also found out that being married to a born humanitarian engendered opening an orphanage and adoption agency for animals and children under 500, distributing aid to Realms in need, and generally trying to give away so much of their wealth he had to put his foot down and allot an allowance in a separate vault for her sanctioned spending sprees. 

Hermione was NOT about to be a kept woman, so, despite Loki's protests, she encouraged him to contact Tony Stark, who was happy to lend them a few million, and Hermione secretly recorded a ton of Loki's loquacious, silver-tongued verbiage, had it published, marketed and on the best-sellers market in record time. It was the only book of poetry and prose that had ever hit the number one best selling list for six months running, and she made sure that all proceeds funded her charities.

Loki was unhappy when he found out about the book deal, changing his tune quickly when he was compensated quite thoroughly, an unlimited number of times, from his grateful, horny, vivacious, and now immortal, wife. It also didn't hurt that hordes of mortal women were swooning over his Godly virulence and eloquent charm.

==

Hermione basked in the garden, enjoying the beautiful day, the fragrance of the flowers, and just relaxing for a change. Being part of a royal family had its perks, the best part the ability to help many, many others. It was also good business and spurred such an increase in trade for Asgard an Embassy of Commerce was built just to handle the influx.

Sighing, she turned over, the light warming her bare back. Her bikini had scandalized the people of Asgard at first, but soon they got used to so many odd 'Midgardian' customs she was almost given a free pass when she did, said or wore something shocking, except for fast food. Loki drew the line at introducing petrified mystery meat to the general public, although he secretly visited Earth to get McDonald's at least once a month. Hey, a God had to have a few little secret indulgences, right?

All of the exciting changes in settling in a new Realm aside, what she missed the most was her husband. The wedding night was definitely one to remember, lasting several days rather than the one proverbial night. She'd introduced Loki to the concept of a honeymoon and, well, she had still been recovering from it three weeks after.

Once her business took off, her charities were running smoothly, and everyone accustomed to the changes, Loki began taking on more long-term assignments, his role of Prince and the first to marry a solemn duty, especially considering his children might be the first in line to inherit the Throne of Asgard.

She must have fallen asleep because the air was crisp, chilling her slightly when a pair of hands covered her eyes, whispering, "Guess who?"

This was her new pet game with Loki. Blindfolding him that first complete carnal encounter resulted in Loki embracing several kinks, and even introducing Hermione to a few. When he covered her eyes, it was pretty much code for, "Let's play, darling."

"Loki," she laughed, stretching, then rising when he removed his hands. "When did you get back? I wasn't expecting you for another week!"

"Ah, well, my assignment finished early, and I took a little side trip to procure a present for you." As she replied, he swung his cloak around her mostly-bare form for warmth.

"You're so sweet! I told you not to keep bringing me presents. There isn't going to be any room left in our quarters at this rate!"

"But Darling, you forget. We live in a palace, and can take over as many rooms as we desire."

"You're incorrigible."

"And you love me for it. Here now, close your eyes and hold out your hands."

"Alright, but it better not be a puppy. I am NOT cleaning up dog piddle in the middle of the night."

Loki made a face she didn't see, stating, "Er, no. That will never happen. Now hush."

A medium-weight, semi-rounded object was placed in her hands, and she ran her fingertips over it. "What is it?"

"Open your eyes."

In the fading light, a Golden apple rested in her grasp, almost giving off its own life, she was able to see it's surface and shape so clearly. "Loki! It's beautiful!" she gushed, surprising him with a jump into his arms.

He gladly welcomed her, holding her up with one arm under her bum and the other behind her back. "I can get used to this form of greeting."

"Then you'll love this." Their lips came together sweetly, now very familiar and comfortable with one another's bodies. There was no rush to their love. The frantic nights of crazed passion had faded a little in the face of everyday life and duty, but the pair still came together often, spicing it up with games, toys and exotic locations from time to time.

"Share it with me, darling," he crooned, "the simultaneous consumption of a Golden Apple between a royal bride and groom ensures success in all things, or so they say. It is also supposed to enhance the chances of successful conception." Then he accepted a bite as she placed the apple to his mouth. Pressing forward, she opened her mouth to him, and he passed it to her, tonguing her during the exchange, then allowing them to separate as she consumed the delicious fruit.

"That is the best apple I have ever tasted."

"Of course, it is. It's an apple from Idunn. Finish it, and your womb will be doubly receptive to my seed. It's my gift to you, love. The most important one."

She slid down his body, taking his hand and sitting together on a bench in the twilight. "Not the most important one, but close to it."

Mildly confused, Loki turned to her in the dark, his eyesight sharp, but her features still outlined by the stars. Her silhouette was alluring and sexy.

"Will you enlighten me as to the most important gift I may give you, so I may journey to procure it?" he asked, cocking his head.

"You already have."

"Please, Darling, I'm serious. No games. I'm truly stumped as to what it could be."

"Let me ask you a question. What happens if a Golden apple is shared between a couple that has already conceived?"

Loki automatically answered with the information Idunn had given him. "Idunn stated, 'Under the rare circumstance a couple is already with child and unaware during the sharing of the Apple, the possibility of multiple births increases exponentially.' Why would you wish to cover such an intricate detail that has little to no chance of becoming relevant?"

Hermione tried to hide her mirth, amazed at even a God's inability to see that which was right in from of his face. Sparing him further teasing, she leaned in, kissing him softly. She pulled back, and with a small curve of her lips, she leaned her forehead against her husbands and took his hands, placing them on her lower abdomen. "In about seven months, the most important gift you've ever gifted me will be in our arms. Or, with the information you've just provided, more than one gift."

Loki's eyes teared, and he openly allowed the drops to fall freely. "Darling. Oh, Darling. You have just made me the happiest God alive. I'm going to spend the rest of this night, and all of the next proving to you just how precious you are to me. And of course, God junior."

"The baby's name will NOT be God jr."

"Why not? Stark thought it was perfect when we had discussed acceptable names for the child of the God of Mischief. I deem it fitting."

"Tony's an ass, and I don't want his name mentioned once we reach our rooms. It will ruin the mood. And God Jr. is permanently off the table. I will be miserable if you argue the point further."

"Can't have that now, can we?" Loki was insanely pleased he'd impregnated her so quickly, and planned a serious bragging session with Thor and his fan club at the next opportunity. Let blondie suck on that. Maybe he'd wise up and snag a wife soon, as well, if he wanted his offspring to be in the running for the Throne of Asgard.

The God of Mischief picked up his pregnant wife bridal-style, carrying her all the way through the palace, ensconcing themselves away in the most pleasurable and memorable of ways.

==

Frigga spied her son returning to the castle that evening, and a smile lit upon her lips. She knew what her daughter-in-law had just told him, and his reaction was soothing. Loki would make a fine father, as he was proving to be a husband.

A couple of days later, in court, the throne room was blessedly quiet, a rare moment of emptiness, Odin and Frigga enjoying the brief respite. Odin sighed, scratching his chin. 

"My wife. Is there any news from Midgard? I have not heard if there were any complications stemming from the children's fateful escapade."

"No. The last I'd heard, the matter was permanently settled. The new regulations ensure strict protocol is followed, and guarantees of escort, protection, etc. etc. Honestly, they seemed a bit intimidated and rather eager to end the exchange."

"Hm. It's about time the mortals started respecting us once more," Odin grunted.

"You really must learn to grant the mortals some understanding. It is not their fault their race is so short-lived, or that their memories faulty."

Odin changed the subject, and Frigga smiled indulgently. If the King wished to change topics, so was his right. The quiet of the Hall was a blessing, and he stretched, a few joints popping in the process. "Have you seen Loki? I saw him briefly the morning after his arrival, but he's been absent for court for two days now."

Frigga took Odin's hand and squeezed it. He returned the gesture, fondly rubbing his palm up her arm and down again, pleased at their renewed affections.

"I've not seen him, but am positive of his whereabouts."

"Oh?" Odin's brows rose in curiosity. "Do enlighten me."

"Well," Frigga began, continuing to play this little game they'd developed centuries ago as a subtle way of flirting in public by either rubbing one another's arm suggestively, or walking fingers up to the shoulder, squeezing and sliding back down to start again; the rule was that whoever got caught or seen first owed the other a favor. Some of the favors had turned into some hefty payouts.

"Yes, well?" spurred Odin, egging her on.

"Our younger son is nested in his chambers, reacquainting himself with his young wife."

"Oh," Odin replied, sounding disappointed. "Is that all?"

Frigga leaned over the edge of her chair, beckoning to her husband. Odin leaned in, tuning one ear to his wife's whispers.

"Loki is getting very, very reacquainted, my love. It's a most …. engaging conversation. A celebration that involves a little one – or two - making an appearance soon."

Odin turned to look at her sharply, seeming not to understand until his wife dropped her chin a half-inch, blinked downward, then back up suggestively as she cocked her head to the right, winking at him in the process.

"OH! That sort of reacquainted. A grandchild! Or two, you say? Hem, well, our son certainly has been busy. Yes, well, erm, eh-em," Odin stuttered, clearing his throat and failing to make it appear natural.

"Yes, 'that sort,' as you so eloquently put it."

"Is the girl happy with this development?"

"In every way. Loki gave her the apple you tasked Idunn with giving him, the night he returned."

"Marvelous," Odin smiled, never questioning how his Queen knew the action had, in fact, been taken. The powerful Queen had been raised by witches, after all, so knowing that which was unknown to others was to be expected.

Odin was silent for several moments, his gaze flitting about the throne room. Sounding utterly serious, he asked her softly, "Would my lovely wife care to get very, very reacquainted with her old husband after we've supped this evening?"

Frigga pretended to think about it, rolling her eyes upward and tapping one finger on her chin. "Let me think."

"There is only one answer to that, my dear," Odin growled, and he shocked her by standing, grabbing her firmly but gently by the wrist, tugging her up and into his embrace. "What say you, wife?" he goaded, reaching in to kiss Frigga in the only public display of intimate affection witnessed by the returning court in over a century. Forgetting where they were momentarily, she embraced him fully, their kiss turning into a full-on, passionate smooch, and she actually moaned loud enough for a few coughs and whispers and snickers to sound, alerting them to their audience.

Breaking apart like two naughty teenagers, Odin harrumphed several times loudly, then proclaimed, "Yes, I do believe you've cleaned your teeth quite thoroughly, my dear."

The court gasped collectively, then nervous titters abounded. When Odin winked to the room, they applauded wildly, and a few anonymous wolf whistles sailed through the air.

"Odin!" flustered Queen admonished, smacking him with a pair of gloves. "You old rogue. I hope you're up to getting 'very reacquainted,' husband. There shall be no mercy."

"I hope not, my dear. I wager there will be no mercy until dawn."

Frigga blushed, remembering their last heart-pounding engagement, and with a boom of his staff, Odin brought order to his throne room, easily sliding back into ruling mode while Frigga hid behind a fan the remainder of the day with a huge grin that wouldn't abate.

Odin was correct. Mercy was for the weak. In the Realm of the Gods, getting reacquainted, most thoroughly, became a prevalent activity for many years.


	13. Chapter 13

Epilogue

Loki couldn't get enough of staring at his newborn daughter. Him. A Father. The thought had honestly never crossed his mind. If you had told him kids were in his future, he probably would have laughed his ass off and made some quip about your sanity. Although the Golden apple hadn't yielded the two babies he'd secretly held out for, he was far from dissatisfied. The little one in his arms was perfect in every way.

But now … well… this perfect little bundle shaped a bit like a sausage, fist wrapped around his pinky, her mouth opening wide in a yawn, back stretching when she cried for food, diapers or comfort, was the Golden apple of his eye.

The God of Mischief's head just couldn't seem to wrap around it. And when he thought of telling his precious offspring of her Daddy's past misdeeds, a deep sense of shame overshadowed his evolving heart.

"Brenna Lokadottir, in addition to your mother, my mother, and brother, you are only the fourth being in this entire Universe I have ever truly loved. I vow to raise you with love, dignity, and truth. It is not your burden to bear that I was denied my heritage. You will be a strong, beautiful, courageous warrior, or a magic-user like myself and your mother. Possibly both," he mused, imagining how mighty she would be if the latter were true.

"There will be no dating until you are 500. No exceptions. Unless it's another woman. Wait – that would be hypocritical of me."

Loki laughed. "Look at me, talking to an infant who cannot understand a word I say. Ah well, maybe I'm becoming a bit like the doddering All-Father in my advanced age."

The baby started fussing, so he brought Brenna back to her mother, his lovely wife, now a Goddess destined to live at least as long as he. "The Norns have blessed me. I deserve none of it but gladly covet all. Now that you are mine, I will never let you go, my loves."

"You've gotten really sappy," Hermione smiled, the baby suckling contentedly at her breast.

Following her husband's gaze, she saw a look of longing hang, unveiled, for a moment until he noticed her watching him indulgently, then blushed a little and looked away.

"Does Daddy want a taste?"

Loki's head shot back, eyes widening. "Truly?"

Hermione yawned. "It's all-natural. I've read it can be a very intimate, bonding experience between couples."

"I will not deprive my daughter of her nourishment," he stated as if this were most obvious.

"Loki. For being a God, you don't know very much about some very basic biological truths that seem to be mostly universal to milk-producing species. A woman's milk is produced on the principle of supply and demand. The more that is expressed, or fed, the more my breasts will make. You won't be taking anything away from Brenna."

Loki thought he was going to hyperventilate. "Excuse me a moment," he told her, rushing into a nearby lavatory.

"Your Father has a lot to learn, my beautiful baby girl," she said softly, inhaling the intoxicating, addictive scent of 'newborn baby.' Some would argue it's not a pure scent, but after experiencing it for herself, Hermione was a believer.

Several minutes later Loki emerged, his confident, self-satisfied mien firmly in place. Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"Don't you look the like cat who got the cream," she snapped, feeling a little crabby.

"Beg your pardon?" Loki answered, sitting next to her, feigning innocence.

"Don't think I don't know why you took so long in there, buddy. If I have to wait, so do you."

"But Darling!"

"Don't you -But Darling- me, Mister. All's fair in love and war."

"War is not fair," he deadpanned.

"Stupid sayings aside. We are equals in this. No secret wank sessions. I mean it."

Loki played with his hands, looking chastened and a bit sheepish. "As you wish, my Love."

Hermione's ire momentarily tempered, the baby popped from her breast, hiccoughing up a storm. Hermione held her out to Loki. "Your turn. Burp her, change her nappy, and then go for a walk or something. I need to take a nap."

"Yes, Dear," Loki said obediently, glaring at his brother who stood in the doorway snickering.

"I wish I had a recording of that. Blackmail across the Nines. You would never double-cross me again," Thor teased.

"Hush!" Loki warned, pointing to Hermione. "She is resting. Help me. Get Brenna a nappy, just there on the table."

Thor picked it up between a thumb and forefinger, gingerly dropping it on Loki's head.

"Ha, ha, hilarious, Brother," he said crossly.

It took a bit of wrangling, but Loki was getting the hang of this baby thing pretty quick. He rolled the nappy into a ball and tossed it at Thor. "Take care of this."

"I do not wish to be the bearer of soiled wrappings," the God of Thunder grumbled, doing as bid anyway.

Loki introduced Thor to the joys of burping an infant, and the resulting hurl of residual milk in his hair, down the neck and into the cloak.

"I never knew infants were so – um – messy –" Thor finished lamely, trying to find an acceptable medium for describing the disgust he felt.

Loki couldn't help it. He took Brenna back and pulled Thor out the door. "We're going for a walk."

"I need to clean this, child's excretions from my person!"

Loki wiggled his fingers. "All done. Let's bring Brenna, my Goddess Jr., to visit the old folks."

"I'm telling mother you called her old."

"She would agree with me, besides…."

Their voices trailed off, and Hermione snuggled down to nap, giggling to herself as she stopped recording secretly with her cell phone and played it back several times. Priceless.

A/N : AKA: Nerd Alert #1- If you scroll down aways on the first web link, you will see the rules of how a child’s name changes depending on the ending of his or her first name, and then combined with the father’s, or rarely, the mother’s last name, which becomes the baby’s last name and ‘son’ or ‘dóttir’ added on.   
Loki’s name ends in an “I”, which according to the charts, changes the ending to an A when beginning the last name. So instead of Brenna Lokisdóttir or Brenna Lokidóttir, It becomes Brenna Lokadóttir. I know, confusing. Dottir is the ending for a daughter. And son would be son. Hence – Odinson – Lokadóttir. Son or daughter of (father’s name). I find this stuff fascinating. I’m a nerd. Hope that helped clear up any confusion if you had some with the naming.

http://www.vikinganswerlady.com/ONNames.shtml 

A/N/N: AKA: Nerd Alert #2 - Pronunciation – The baby’s name would be pronounced:

Brenna – Brrr(rolling the r) en-nah so – Brrr-en-nah  
Lokadóttir- Low-cah-doe-teer – the a in “cah” is a short a vowel sound

https://en.wikibooks.org/wiki/Old_Norse/Grammar/Alphabet_and_Pronunciation


End file.
